The Sheltered Life #FridayReflections

My autistic brother in law, Bil, spent much of the years of his adult life, sheltered, in either a sheltered workshop (where he made less than the minimum wage) or, in his bedroom.


That has changed in the past two and a half years, after his two brothers moved him (and his elderly mother, now ailing) up to be near us.

We had better programs here - no reflection at all on his mother, who did what she could raising him in an age where there were few services for people with autism.

Sheltered workshops no longer exist - and as a result, my brother in law no longer works.  One adjustment.

Sometimes, I am in awe of my brother in law.  He has had to make so many adjustments in so little time.

There is another one coming, as his mother will be transitioning from rehab into skilled nursing in the near future.  She needs 24 hour care for an ailment and won't be able to return home after three hospitalizations in a month's time.  And now, we have a month to clean out her apartment, including the room that was once his shelter.  Three moves in less than three years.

"Bil", earlier this year, moved into what is called supportive housing, and now is experiencing life on his own (with a roommate, and support, but still on his own).  How daring can that be, in your late 50's?

He has the chance for independence, finally, and I hope he has the daring to take full advantage of it.  So far he is taking baby steps - and what else would one expect, when the door to independence of a sheltered life opens?

But, sooner or later, there will be still another leaving from his sheltered life, when the mother who cared for him for almost 60 years takes her ultimate journey.

What will happen then?


Today, on #FridayReflections,I am writing from the prompt "A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within. - Eudora Welty"  Join Shalini and Corinne at Everyday Gyaan, and contribute your own #FridayReflections.

A World Without Books #FridayReflections

“I have always imagined that paradise will be some kind of library.” — Jorge Luis Borges

I have loved books since I was a little girl.  I loved how they felt.  I loved how they smelled.  I loved going to the small branch public library that was located in the housing project where I grew up and taking books out.

Soon after I started school, that branch library closed, and in its place we started to get a bookmobile. It would park at my housing project each Thursday, except during the summer.  I dreamed of working in a bookmobile (a mobile library) when I grew up.

There was another branch library in walking distance, about a mile away.  They would close each June (and reopen in September) but they would allow users to take out an unlimited number of books right before they closed.  I filled my room with summer reading material.

So, when my husband and I became responsible for my autistic brother in law, one of the very first things we did for him was getting him a library card.  Strangely, he won't take the books out.  He wants to read in the library only.  He does have his favorites - science and horror.

In his own way, he loves books, too.  And the library.

In books, we both find our own types of paradise.

If heaven does not have libraries, it will not be heaven.

And, on this day when students and a teacher in a high school art classroom lost their lives in Santa Fe, Texas, all I can do is share a picture of a quilt displayed at our local library during the summer of 2014.  May they rest in peace.

Join Corinne at Everyday Gyaan,  Shalini/Kohl Eyed Me at #FridayReflections and share your love of books!

The Last Spring

I fear this will be my mother in law's last spring.

Next week, we will have to tell my brother in law, who is autistic, that his mother will not be coming home from her recent hospitalizations and stints in rehab.  Instead, she is going to be admitted into skilled nursing.

Three Emergency Department visits in five weeks.  A good reason why I have not been posting.

Today, she couldn't even remember that she had rehab. All she could remember is that she was exhausted because "they kept taking me out of bed".

I don't know how my brother in law will react, but I have a feeling he's already figured it out in his mind.  Us telling him will only make it official.

We've been told we have to be direct with him - not to use any euphemisms, as they would only confuse him.

Hoping I will have enough energy to report how the "big reveal" went.

Watching my mother in law fade away from congestive heart failure and early onset dementia has been an emotional experience.  I never dreamed how hard it would be. My parents, and my one grandparent who lived into my adult years, all died suddenly.

I've had friends die but nothing could have prepared me for this.

I just hope my brother in law will cope with it OK, because I just don't know how to support him, and I barely have enough strength to support myself.