Susan Senator

I know exactly how you feel. My oldest of 4 girls is severely handicapped. She went to residential school when she was 7 1/2. It hurt terribly to send her, but I realized that having her home was no longer productive for her and was very stifling to the rest of the family. I worked very hard to help Rebecca, but my efforts had reached their limit. I knew it was time to let someone else help her. Every month I would bring her home for a weekend visit, and then drive home crying after returning her to school. It always hurt so much, and maybe that’s why you don’t go for the ride back.

Now Rebecca is 32 years old and living in a very comfortable group home. She does not expect to go home with me when I go to visit. She is comfortable in her own home. She has her radio and music around her and she is content. To remove her from this comfortable environment would serve no purpose but to perhaps eliminate some inner feeling of guilt that all mothers feel when placing their child in a residential setting.

I remember when I used to bring Rebecca home for a visit. She was suddenly thrown into confusion. The surroundings were different. She would walk around confused and disoriented … out of her element. Even though she was back in her home with the family she used to live with, it no longer felt comfortable to her. She had grown accustomed to her residential school.

I still remember the earliest years when she was all smiles and full of innocence while living at home with us. Then I remember the hurt and confusion on her face when she first went to live away. I will never forget the sadness or the confusion. But then I think of how she changed years later. It was almost like a reversal of rolls. Suddenly, she was feeling misplaced when she came home for a visit and I knew that she belonged with her new family … her group home family. She is content and well cared for there. I would never dream of removing her to satisfy any latent guilt I may still have now. I visit Rebecca once a month and spend about an hour with her. She acknowledges my presence, but then goes about doing whatever she was doing before I arrived. She is content to see me but seems to be happy in her own home now.

After a visit, I return home to my other daughter who has high functioning autism. Marisa usually asks, “How is Rebecca doing?” Marisa is very capable of expressing herself and she has clearly informed me that she wouldn’t want to live in Rebecca’s group home, but is looking forward to living away from her parents some day “… after I graduate!” she reminds me. She wants to live with friends like herself, perhaps in a supported apartment or a small house with some of her friends on the autism spectrum who are higher functioning than Rebecca. Now how nice is that?

My son has been living apart from me for almost 12 years. I pick him up every weekend, but on Sunday, my heart sinks driving back to his residence. I know that most of the time he is content there. There is no one asking him about his day or how he is feeling, like I tend to do. He can focus on things important to him in his room. But….the quality of his care fluctuates like the weather. And due to budget cuts, choice is limited in terms of what activities he can participate in. We need to be vigilant and lobby for increased funding that can provide a more secure life for them after we are gone.