The Untold Story of Thanksgiving
On Thanksgiving, I shared a story about how special Thanksgiving is in our home along with how Aaron brings that sparkle of gratitude into his everyday living.
However, something was left out. Not intentionally, it came about during the evening of Thanksgiving. More specifically, over the dinner, the importance of that will be clear momentarily.
As the most scrumptious dinner came to a close (shout out to momma Trofholz for whipping up her 33rd Thanksgiving dinner) things got heated quicker than the pumpkin pie in the oven. We had just finished going around the table expressing something we are grateful for, the theme appeared to be the recognition of what an absolute privilege it is to be near loved ones. The discussion of gratitude seemed to drift as we talked about the possibility of Aaron having a “man cave” on the first floor and how absolutely cool that would be.
Brief background of the significance of this discussion… My parents and Aaron moved back to Lake Bluff from Ann Arbor earlier this year. Aaron quickly claimed the front living room as his; it was not long before his Queen cassette tapes, old socks, and q-tips covered every square inch of the room. This is the room that greets everyone as they enter the home. You may think this is to everyone’s dismay, but this is our normal – this is life with that extra chromosome. We all (mostly my parents) all drop subtle hints about how cool it would be for him to move his stuff to the “man cave”. The designated “man cave” is a room off the entryway that has an awesome fireplace and most importantly doors, to close away the organized chaos. You see, that extra chromosome of Aaron’s encourages his mind to engage with his world in a structured chaos. It does not make sense to us, but it makes sense to him (Don’t even think about moving that Queen tape or sock even an inch-because I promise you, he will notice). So the hope for the past 5 months has been to help Aaron transition to the “man cave”.
Back to that dinner… as we all encouraged Aaron to move his stuff over because it’d be WAY cool for him, something was activated in him. He launched his dinner plate across the table nearly whipping Mary Kate in the head (and by plate I mean mom’s antique Christmas China). Miraculously, the plate was not harmed in the process.
(Enter a moment mixed with shock and chaos)
Aaron jumped up, hollered, “I am mad” and stormed away. This is not the first time this has happened, therefore over the years we have learned to let him walk away – he needs that autonomy. Much like you and I, when we are angry or upset, the last thing we want is someone telling us how to express our feelings. So, imagine how even more complex that is for an individual who does not necessarily have the words to match his emotions.
About 5 minutes passed and when the shock of it all faded, Matt, Mary Kate, and myself proceeded to find him in “his” living room. We sat down with him and we asked Alexa to play the Home Alone soundtrack. We just sat there in a brief silence followed by bursts of laughter. This is what Aaron has taught us, the power of love. This time of year can be stressful for a lot of people – disability or not. It’s hard to find the words to articulate how we are feeling all of the time, so naturally we become activated. But, the solution is how quick do we rebound? Aaron taught us the power in quick rebounds and the importance of never fostering resentment.
The ability to rebound after a not so ideal moment reinforces our humanness.
As siblings of Aaron we learned to love unconditionally… and boy, do we love hard. If this Thanksgiving taught me anything, it taught me the indescribable value of forgiveness and that it is inevitable through connecting with those around us while rebounding into love.
Seeing the similarities over the differences is the heart’s greatest ability.
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If you or someone you know has an experience to share about seeing the similarities over the differences please contact me at email@example.com