Just before Christmas I did a thing. Many of us remember the days of camcorders and video recorders that seemed to be size of a milk jug and weighed almost as much! Like many, we have lugged our obsolete and non-functional camcorders around for years. With each military move we proclaim that we will plug the device in to see if it still works when we get to the next place. And we agree that we need to watch our old videos together as a family. But we never do, at least we never had until I did the thing.
I found a shop that finalized all of our old mini discs that held the memories of years gone by. As part of a birthday/pre-Christmas present, I presented the treat to my wife, Lori, and the family. We all watched in awe as well more than 10 years had passed since the scenes before us had occurred, and likely had never been watched. Of course, the usual observations of how young each child was being weighed against how much younger mom and dad looked was a dominant jovial theme!
We all watched and laughed with each other as the comical scenes unfolded. Birthday parties, Christmases, two different Army moves to Alaska. All revealed a simpler time in our family. I was thankful that I had done the thing and had the discs prepared for our enjoyment. I was more thankful that those moments had been captured what seemed like so long ago.
I also had what at first felt like a self-serving narcissistic thought, namely, that we were normal back then. We were not perfect, but we were a normal family. Normal in the sense that there was life before we entered the special needs world. There was a different life before Down syndrome. I missed that world. And for a few brief moments, I wanted to go back. I suppose I consider that the narcissistic part of my thought. But we cannot. Life has been altered. And that is not all bad, but it is not all good either.
A few days before Christmas, I was talking with Kavan, my oldest son now 15. Lori had gone upstairs to check on Kaydan, who was in the bathtub. She returned to the kitchen where Kavan and I were chatting and announced, “All good, no poop.” Kavan chuckled and responded, “It’s amazing how much of our lives revolve around Kaydan’s poop.” His comment was both humorous and sobering. His comment was another reminder of our normal. The infamous “Code Brown,” as we have come to call it, can occur anytime but most often happens while Kaydan is in the bathtub. I suppose that day, or moment at least, was a notch above normal!
Christmas is now only a couple days past. Frankly, I cannot recall a more relaxing Christmas. We went nowhere. No one came to visit. It was just us. Our family, minus our oldest daughter, Tara, and her husband, Nathan. We enjoyed our usual Christmas rituals and celebrated the coming of Christ into our world with meaningful newness. One could say it was almost the perfect Christmas day. And yet, there was an oddness about it as well. It felt normal.
Sometime in the afternoon it finally occurred to me why the day felt both odd and normal at the same time. From the very first thuds of waking footsteps in the house, to the shrieks of delight at the sight of presents under our Christas tree, to the delight of opening the first gift, it all felt normal. And even as the day unfolded, Kaydan played with new toys like any typical 8-year-old does. For the better part of a day, there was no special education, there were no medical appointments, there was no Code Brown. There was just us, a family. A family that was extremely blessed to enjoy being together and having the means to share Christmas gifts with one another. It was as normal of a Christas as any, and it felt good.
Like Christmas day, so normal comes and goes as well. Today, while most kids are enjoying the beloved winter break, Kaydan had a day of school in accordance with his Individual Education Plan. I suppose one could say we are back to our way of normal. I do not know when I will experience another normal day as I did on Christmas day. But I am thankful that I did. And I am hopeful that another “normal” day is out there sometime before next Christmas!
Whatever your normal looks like, I pray that you experience the peace of Christ in a real way as this 2021 draws to a close. Normal comes and goes, but the peace of Christ endures. For that, I am most thankful. God bless each of you and as always, thanks for your support!