The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave

The Fourth of July always brings back such vivid memories for me from my childhood. Every year, our family would pack up our travel trailer to go camping with our extended family at a local lake about twenty minutes from home. The town itself was small with a population of around 250 people. But it was our vacation every year, and I relished it, each year counting the days to it's arrival knowing that it would be a fun filled week spent with all my cousins.

It was a simpler time. I feel so old saying that. There were no Iphones to interrupt. No televisions. No laptops. And no air conditioning for cooling.

My days were spent running around a campground with my cousins. We'd walk the mile or so to town to get penny candy from the only store. I swam in the murky water to cool down from the heat of the day, despite the fact that I had no idea how to swim and my parents were no where to be found. We were free. We had the campground at our disposal. The park was our hang out with it's old rusty equipment. I can still envision the much too tall metal slide with no slide rails ending at a huge hill. Really, what were they thinking?

My nights were spent sitting around the campfire drinking Shasta pop and eating s'mores while listening to the adults tell stories I didn't understand. Each night we would do sparklers, and my cousins and I would dance around like fairies writing our names in the dark sky. And on the Fourth, we would all pile in someones station wagon with blankets in hand, and head out to watch the local fireworks in the school's football field. The fireworks were always my favorite, but also a reminder that the week was drawing to a close.

When your child has Aspergers, the Fourth of July takes on a new meaning. Clear back in March, Jacob started worrying about the celebration. We spent many nights trying to calm his fears about fireworks that were months and months away. Tears, meltdowns, and panicking for what seemed to us as no reason. I always told him that we would worry about it when it got here.

Well, it is here. Today is the Fourth. No, our day hasn't been filled with any true celebration. No parades or small town fair for us. So far today is just like any other day with Jacob over at his friend's house playing. Jacob knows what the date is on the calendar. But his focus is more on tomorrow being his birthday. How ironic is it for a boy terrified of fireworks to be born so close to the holiday known for them.

But he's come along way, my brave boy. With the help of his psychiatrist and his anti-anxiety medicine, he has been watching fireworks on the computer with no problems. He's even attended baseball games with fireworks with little anxiety. He can talk about fireworks now without getting worked up. But tonight will be the big test. And as the day wears on, his anxiety may just grow because typically for Jacob the anticipation of the event is worse than the actual event.

While eating breakfast this morning, Jacob suddenly ran to his room and returned wearing his oversized headphones. He sat back down at the table with no mention of them covering his ears, eating his breakfast as if nothing had changed. I approached him cautiously. Were the fears of July Fourth returning? Were we in for a long day?

"Jacob," I asked pulling the headphone away from one ear, "Why are you wearing your headphones?"

"In case the baby sister decides to scream," he answered matter of fact and continued eating his french toast.

Hmmm....good answer and rightfully so as she was upset about getting milk instead of juice. I sighed with relief realizing it wasn't an early preparation for the impending fireworks. Maybe today will be fine after all. We'll see what the night brings.

Last night Jacob wanted nothing more than to go over to his cousin's house. They had told them they had "silent" fireworks, and surprisingly Jacob wanted to see them. Last year he wouldn't have been able to handle it. The conversation on the phone would have been enough to send him into a meltdown. But he wanted to see them, and he even had a plan for what he wanted to do with them. His idea was to have his cousins light the "silent" fireworks, (which really were just more like sparklers that gave off colored smoke), and he would run the bases like his favorite baseball players.

He did it and had a blast. But then he saw his two year old baby sister holding a sparkler, and he wanted more. He wanted to try it, too. My brave son was pushing himself further. And he did it! My son held a sparkler! He even wrote his name in the sky, just as I had many years ago. Something that would have sent him running to the car pleading to go home last year, and he wanted to do it and did! He was proud of himself and was beaming.

We left for home shortly after that. As we walked out the door, you could hear the booms of fireworks off in the distance. Jacob asked me what it was, and I tentatively told him the truth expecting panic to rise in his voice. Instead he surprised me and said it didn't bother him and continuted walking to the van.

As I tucked him into bed last night, Jacob wanted to hear stories from when I was a child. When I finished telling him, he said, "Mommy, I wish when you were little I could have been there and we could have played at Grandma's house."

I kissed him on the head and said, "I wish that, too."

I do wish that. I wish my son could have that same freedom I felt as a kid. Free from all the fears bottled up inside him and the anxiety that continually surfaces. Free from the worries giving him the ability to try new things without hesitation. Jacob's come along way though in just a few short months. And maybe next Fourth of July he will be truly free.