He’s not easy to see back there in the shadows on the black love seat.
But that’s Joey on the Saturday before Christmas, enjoying his day off with a snooze.
A bit before that, he’d been bugging Melissa in one of his, “Hey, I’m not in a good mood so do something” routines, with a distressed face, invasion of her personal space, grabbing and tugging of her hand but no words to give her some idea of what to do.
But she read his mind. “Do you want dad to turn on the Christmas Tree lights?”
I have them on a timer that leaves them off most of the day. But with it cloudy and wintry outside, I was fine flicking the override switch and letting the tree glow.
Sure enough, that’s what he wanted. He took over the love seat (no good deed goes unpunished, so he crowded Melissa off). He stared at the tree for a good, long while. We got on with other things until I noticed him nestled in for a nap and took the picture.
There are the challenges that people with special needs bring to the holidays, as this dad points out. The other side is that people with special needs often enjoy simple things, like tree lights in a dark, quiet room. They won’t be miffed if they don’t get a pile of disposable, dust catching crud wrapped up under the tree. They won’t calculate how much you spent as a measure of love and they won’t hold some perceived slight against you for the next ten holidays.
A couple of requested videos will show up under the tree for Joey (right before we’re ready to open ’em on Christmas morning – otherwise he’ll open ALL the presents to find the one or two that are his). Meanwhile, he’s been enjoying the glow of the tree and our snuggling together each evening for a bit of the Advent calendar (each day has a mini-book about an event leading up to Jesus’ birth). He’s especially happy to have his brother and sister-in-law here for Christmas. He even vocalized anticipation of that – “Tim will be here soon.” He gets Christmas way better than a lot of people.
We wish all of you a Merry Christmas.