Never Alone: 2018

I honestly don't even know where to begin with this blog post so I'll just start here: We just sent our 19 year old son out on a three MONTH mission for our church. Normally the young men are "called" to serve a two YEAR mission. Well, our son completed his paperwork for his mission (like an application for a job, if you will) and was completely honest in his answers. He reported that he took medication for ADD (attention deficient disorder) and that he has Aspergers (now NOT recognized as Aspergers but 'simply' as Autism or "on the spectrum"). Typically a young man or a young woman that wants to serve a mission fills out paperwork, has an interview with their bishop (local church leader), the paperwork is given to their stake president (local church leader - the next level up), they have an interview with their stake president and the paperwork is submitted to the missionary department in Salt Lake City. Usually within four weeks the prospective missionary gets a letter in the mail (now I believe it is all being done via e-mail - wow, how times have changed!) and they gather family and friends around when they open their letter and "reveal" where they have been called to serve.

That is not the case with "3 month-ers", at least not in our son's case. We received a phone call from our Stake President asking that we meet with him. My husband, our son Michael, and I met with our Stake President one evening. There he read a letter to us addressed to him, informing us that Michael would be serving a three month mission in West Las Vegas. During that time he would be assessed to see if he was "able" to complete a full two year mission.

***NOTE - It is now December. I will only be finishing up this blog post to the point where I was back in March, when we sent Michael (now, Elder Skaggs) on his 3 month mission. A LOT has happened in these past few months and you'll want to come back and read about that when I blog about it.***

We were a bit surprised that our son wasn't being called to serve a full two year mission as we knew he was perfectly capable of serving two years. Nevertheless, I was thrilled that he was being given the opportunity to serve, if even for "only" 3 months. As Pres. Ham, the Stake President, was reading the letter and I was beginning to realize this wasn't a "typical" mission call, I was concerned how our son was going to take being "rejected" from a full time mission.

I had NO cause to worry because when Pres. Ham read the letter stating he was being called to serve a "2 transfer mission" (which is three months) and he was going to West Las Vegas Michael didn't flinch. He pumped his fist in the air and exclaimed, "Yes!!"

My heart was full. I was happy that HE was happy. Throughout his 19+ years of life I have witnessed him get beat down emotionally. I've watched him be excluded from get togethers, parties and gatherings by his peers. I've seen others in his age group form bonds that didn't include our son. Now, I don't say that as a "poor me" type of thing. It is just the life of an "Aspie". Our son has never been "normal" but he is soooooo close to the line of being "typical" and being "on the spectrum" that it hurts to see him usually on the outside looking in.

But now here he is. Being called to serve as a missionary for the Lord! He gets to "be like the rest of them". As I write my next blog post you will come to see how that is further from the truth than we had originally thought.

Like my title says, Michael has lived his whole life with some sort of label. He was diagnosed with Apraxia (speech disorder) when he was 3, ADD when he was 8 and then Aspergers when he was 12. It was one label after another. To us, he was just our son that had more difficulties to work through than others. We had no idea how much his Aspergers/Autism would affect him, his relationships with his peers or even his relationship with the rest of our immediate family.

Having a label can be a difficult "burden" to carry your whole life. There were times when he would say or do something where I would have to say to myself, "That wasn't Michael; that was his Aspergers." The pain would still be there. The sting of his words would still affect me but I always knew it wasn't Michael, per se. Michael has such a big heart and a deep desire to do what's right. He is ALWAYS willing to lend a hand to friend, foe or stranger. That's just how this boy works.

So, we see that labels, no matter WHAT they are - mean, nice, kind, selfish, ugly, beautiful - will affect your life. If we can look past the label of others and see them as a child of God, our equal, another person on a different journey but heading to the same destination, well, then we'd ALL be better and happier people.

The night before we took Michael to the mission office in Las Vegas we stayed at a cousin's house in Vegas. That morning before we took Michael to his mission I remember him getting really frustrated and he said something unkind to me. It hurt. I knew he was nervous so that didn't help either. I remember the sting of his words. As I stepped back and cried silent tears, I didn't want him to know he had hurt me, I said to myself, "It's not Michael speaking....it's his Aspergers." His journey has been difficult from the very first step. It has caused heart ache just within the walls of our own home, not to mention what it has done to his social life. However, as I step back and remember that he is a child of God, not to mention MY OWN CHILD THAT I BIRTHED, and just wants love and acceptance, I realize that's all I WANT FOR ME, too. Isn't that what we all want?

Life with an Aspie may not be easy for anyone, especially the individual that is on the spectrum, but it IS worth it. As we look past others labels and see them as God sees them, then we will NEVER be ALONE.

Love,
Debbie

It's been a while since I've put "pen to paper" and allowed my thoughts to flow. But here I am once again! So, sit back and enjoy.

Our babies...22,19 & 17

Do you ever feel like life is just passing you by and you're trying to stop it or slow it down and you just can't? I mean, our first born is now 22 years old! We have our 19 year old son and then our caboose is 17. Where did the years go? What have I done? What have I accomplished? What do I have to show for MY 50 years on this earth? When I depart this frail existence what will others remember of me?

My mom has been gone for over a year now, a year and three months to be exact. I think about her and what she left behind. Besides the worldly stuff - furniture, pictures, nick-knacks, books, DVD's and music CD's - what has she left that I will always remember? Something that has and will stay in my heart?

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The blue bike with that awesome
banana seat!!

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Ballet as a child - priceless memories

I remember the ballet lessons she took me to, the new blue bicycle with the blue banana seat for Christmas and the green gaucho's with the matching vest - oh how I LOVED that outfit! I remember her taking my older siblings and me to Long Beach where we played ALL DAY at the local park that had a water fountain while Mom worked delivering mail. Yes, my mom was a letter carrier. She loved that job. "Back in the day" she could leave us 'alone' to play knowing all would be well when she came back to get us. There were the drives to the mall where she would take us Christmas shopping for our "secret Santa" gift for one of our siblings. Haha - I remember one Christmas when my older brother, Mark, had my name to buy a gift for. I happened to turn on the Barbie aisle and he was getting not one but TWO Barbie dolls for ME! He wasn't happy that I saw him, but that's another story. Yep, Mom made that possible.

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Oh how I ROCKED my
gaucho's!!

Mom's final resting place

Mom even taught my church class one year. That was back in the day that each class was assigned a name rather than just the number for the age group. I don't remember how old I was but she was my Targateer teacher. This was when Primary was held during the week in the evenings. Right after she was done teaching I would run to the bathroom and change from church clothes to my softball uniform or practice clothes and Mom would race me to a game or practice.

I participated in several beauty pageants between the ages of 17 to 22. My mom didn't go to ALL of my pageants but she went to many, including my first one, where I'm sure I didn't even make the top 20, and my last one. The one I remember most is when I competed in Miss Orange County, USA. I remember being on stage thinking, "All these girls are so beautiful and nice. There's NO WAY I can win this pageant (which would take the winner to the Miss California, USA pageant)." The announcer calls the 2nd runner-up. Nope. Not me. Now, I thought I had a pretty good chance of making the top 3 so I hoped to hear my name called as the 1st runner-up. The name of the 1st runner-up is announced and no, it was not my name. So, I look at the girl that I thought would win and be crowned Miss Orange County. I'm happy for her but bummed that I didn't even make the top three. The winner is announced and I see my mom and little sister (from Mom's second marriage) jump up out of their seats, cheering and clapping. I'm a bit disappointed that my mom is so happy for this other girl, as I stand on the stage clapping for this girl (but I'm not jumping and full of joy for her like my mom is!). Then it registers. It was MY NAME that was called. They called Deborah Susan Johnson as the winner!!! Mom wasn't cheering the other girl on. She was cheering for ME!! Mom was there, on the front row, cheering for me. Yes. My mom was there - cheering for me.

One of my fondest memories I have of my mom is when we lived on Santa Anita Lane in Huntington Beach, CA. That was, again, back in the day when we could leave school to go home for lunch and we WALKED to and from school most days. Anyway, I remember walking up to our house and seeing the yellow curtains in the front kitchen window....and walking in and seeing my mom waiting for me with a fresh grilled cheese sandwich. To this day whenever I see or have a grilled cheese sandwich it evokes good feelings and fond memories.

I was run over by a car when I was nine. Mom told me when she arrived upon the scene of the accident she wondered "Who got hurt this time?" not knowing it was her baby girl. She got out of the car after my older sister, Michele, ran up to her car yelling, "Debbie got hit by a car! Debbie got hit by a car!" Mom told me she was 'cool as a cucumber' until she heard the doctor's say, "She's going to make it. She's going to be OK." That's when she broke down and cried. I never understood that.....until I had children of my own. I used to joke with my mom and say, "Ummmm, so you were fine when you thought I might die and then cried when you knew I was gonna LIVE!" Well, as any parent will attest, those tears my mom cried were tears of relief, joy, pent up emotion not knowing what the future was gonna bring. Once she knew her baby girl was going to be alright the emotions began to flow.

Mom and me

Our wedding day Aug 1991

I have always known my mom loved me, simply because I was her child. However, it wasn't until her passing that I realized just how much my mom really did love me. See, my mom loved me enough to allow me to fly when she wanted to clip my wings and keep me home and safe. She loved me enough to trust me in my decisions and even SUPPORT those decisions when she would have rather I chose a different way. My mom loved me by supporting my decision to serve a mission for my church and send me thousand's of miles and an ocean away and PAY for it, too. My mom loved me enough when I chose a righteous man that would take me to the temple to be married for time and all eternity....and Mom wasn't even able to attend the temple service. BUT she was outside waiting for me and happy for my happiness.

My birthday with my family

Mother/daughter outing

As I look back at my childhood and look forward to my children and the way I helped raise them, I often wonder what THEY will remember about ME when I'm gone. Will they remember the times I drove them from our home to their acting classes - over an hour away and STAYED there while they did their class and then drove them home? Will they remember the homemade chocolate chip cookies I made for them every Friday? Will they remember that I loved them and supported them in everything they did? Will they remember the vacations that their Dad and I took them on so we could bond as a family and build memories that we hoped would last a lifetime? Do they know I love them? If so, I will feel complete as a mom.

Picking up Jennifer from
the airport!!

Who needs Uber when
you've got "UDDER"?

I will not and cannot compare me and my mothering to that of others. I was never the mom that made the super cool, creative birthday cake shaped like a castle. I don't remember ever doing some over the top birthday parties that I've sent my own children to. We didn't buy cars for our children as they became teenage drivers. I have not done a lot of things that mom's do these days. I probably wouldn't win mother of the year, especially if I compared myself to the mom's of today, and I'm OK with that. I just hope I've left a legacy for my children....one that they will look back on and say, "I know my mom loved me." That's all I want from this life. I want my children to know that I love them no matter what. If that's all my children remember about me - that they were loved - then life will have been worth it. Now, an extra bonus would be ..... if they ALSO say, "I know my mom loved me. Do you remember when she would pick us up at the airport in a COW COSTUME?!" Yes. THEN I would certainly 'rest in peace'.

Family trip back East

Just another cow day!

I pray that each of us is leaving a legacy worth remembering. Whether you be remembered by family, friends, neighbors or even a stranger you affected along the way, I pray it is a legacy that touches others in a good way. Because, remember, you are NEVER ALONE in this thing called Life. There is ALWAYS someone walking with you, next to you or near you. Your legacy is being made with each breath you take, each step you make, each choice you make and each day you live.

Legacy on!!

Much love to you all,

Debbie