a year older

Today marks my 41st year of existence, as far as I can remember, I have always looked forward to birthdays -- toys and gifts from my parents when I was a child, and drinking sessions with good friends from my teen years to early adulthood. But since learning of Zepp's condition, I have come to dread it, because it means that I'm turning a year older, and a year closer to the inevitable, and this fear that I have that I'd be gone one day, and my son still lacks the skills necessary to survive and sustain himself.

I'm sure it is the same for every special needs parents out there. He does have siblings, and I'm sure that they will love him and support him, but do they have to sacrifice what they could potentially become in order to care for their brother? It's easier when you're on the other side of the fence, and not having to live with the condition in your day-to-day lives. It has changed our lives. I'm one of the luckier ones because I work from home, and can juggle doing chores and working, while my wife drops and picks the kids up from school, from the SpEd center to the occupational therapist, to the speech therapist, and running some errands as well. Other parents that I know had to give up their jobs, their careers, in order to care for their children.

Today, I turn 41, Zepp just turned 7, I have fought his condition for five years, doing what I can to provide all the therapies that he needs. It's funny, five years ago, we were somehow of the belief that he'd be OK when he turn's 7, and by OK, I do not mean neurotypical, just being toilet-trained, and be able to express himself through words to lessen his frustrations is good enough for me, but that is not the case. I have come to accept the fact that it is what it is, and loved him the same if not more. I can’t wait for the day to come that he'd make progress in communications and self-help, until that day, it’s just another day.