The Fall and Winter holiday season is soon to be upon us, starting this month of course with everyone’s spooky favorite, Halloween. Halloween seems to be an interesting and challenging holiday for many who read this. If you are a Christian, you may be hesitant to celebrate it, or even recognize it at all based on its’ pagan and druidic roots. But if you are a special needs parent and decide to celebrate it, then there is a whole other laundry list of issues that come with it. These include, but are not limited to:
the sensory overload by too many or too scary decorations,
the sensory issues involved in finding a costume they can handle even for a short period of time,
the challenge of allowing them to have candy or snacks that are essentially not good for them but you still want them to feel a part of the fun,
the allergies your child may have to said candy or snacks that could make them sick or worse,
the social dynamics of being around large groups of other kids for extended periods of time while trick or treating, and so forth.
Add to that the new regulations you may be facing in your state due to COVID, and this holiday feels like more of a mess you don’t need than anything else.
But as a good parent, you want to accommodate your child being a part of things as much as possible. So you will once again find a way to make it work, just as my family has done for years with our own son. Halloween for us has luckily been not too traumatic, as we figured out a formula that has worked pretty well: get our son in a costume that was easy to wear or slip on; we would trick or treat only in our neighborhood, going to homes of families who are friends or that mostly knew him; and we made sure that when he got tired or bored, we would just stop regardless of how much effort we made. I assume it will be pretty much the same this year for him, with one major exception. I am now divorced from my son’s mom, and this year, because of our custody agreement, I will not be with him for Halloween. Having been recently divorced in April of this year, I haven’t had the experience yet of not seeing him at all on a holiday, until now. So while I will see him the night before, I won’t be helping with his costume, won’t be assisting him going up to the neighbor’s doors up and down the street; I won’t be sifting through the assorted candies that he collects afterwards.
The experience this year is challenging for me for sure, but one of the results of dealing with the emotions I feel around this is that it has caused me to be quite nostalgic. Like many parents in my situation, you sometimes find yourself going back in time through your mind, or pictures or both, mulling over the memories of better times with your family and kids. One such memory of Halloween popped in my brain the other day, and while I have an attachment to it because it was so special for me, it was also uniquely significant in that the personal events of my life at that time were eerily similar to what I’m experiencing now.
It was October 2014, and I was in the middle of a short period of personal chaos that had created a fair sense of anxiety and fear in me. I had recently suffered a job loss; a position that I had been promised fell through, after I had already left my previous employer. My mother had recently experienced an accident in her home that resulted in her having a couple of slipped spinal disks which required neck surgery. My then mother-in-law had a relapse of a heart condition that also required her to be hospitalized for a short time. All of this meant that I now was without a job to go to, a mother to check in on daily as she recuperated in the hospital, a mother-in-law who normally would help with pickups and drop offs for my son at school and his various therapies, who was now unable to help in those ways. But the one thing I knew I could do and would be a help in every way was to take over my son’s daily schedule while my then-wife was still working full-time. I found myself in the sometimes enviable (or unenviable) role of Mr. Mom, getting my son to school, being on standby if there was a sick call or other check-in from the school, then picking him up at the end of the day.
While I was feeling a fair sense of pity and frustration over my job situation, I leaned into helping my family as much as possible. I also tried to gravitate towards the more positive things that my current situation was allowing me to do, namely, spend more time with my son, and be a big part of his everyday world. I was used to my son just magically disappearing and reappearing at the start and end of my work day and his school day, but now I was the magician who was making that all possible. I was the one navigating the gauntlet of the school pick-up and drop-off lines, standing outside with all of the other parents, even some of the dads, and one friend of mine in particular who was a stay-at-home dad. It was like being a member of a strange club where I always had a membership, but never showed up. I felt somewhat confused and even slightly insecure, but did my best to remind myself I was still serving an important purpose in my family’s life.
This feeling of purpose to my time at home was finally realized, when a short time after all of these changes began, the first of the Fall holidays showed up: Halloween. As is the tradition at most elementary schools, students were free to dress up in or bring a costume to change into, as well as goody bags with candy or other treats. In my new parenting role, the responsibility of getting all of that together on the big day was mine; the easiest part was the costume. What was my son going to be? A werewolf? A transformer? Some other science fiction super hero dude? Nah. My son has autism; he was in first grade and was still into Sesame Street and Elmo and a bunch of other younger kid shows. But he did like food, and he especially liked pizza. So no wonder that when mom went shopping to the big box store we got him—a piece of pizza costume. The easiest and most fun costume in the world, just slip it on over his clothes and he’s ready to go.
John’s son, October 2014, dressed as a slice of pizza!
The elementary school he attended always did a huge bang up celebration every year. This included each classroom doing their own party, but also a school-wide costume parade in which each class went to tour the hallways and then do a lap in the gym for all of the parents and family members who came to watch. As working parents, we never had many chances to attend these kinds of events; it was usually grandma or another close family friend who would show up so that our son knew someone was there for him. This year though, it was dear old Dad who was handling Halloween duty. I would be the one standing in the gym as my son came around with the other kids. I dutifully stood with phone in hand, ready to snap a couple of pictures, assuming with all of the crowds and chaos that I might not get much of a chance at a good shot. My son’s class came around loosely together, and since it was a special education classroom, most kids had one-on-one aides or helpers walking with them, my son included. As my son started to walk in front of me with his aide, I waved and said his name, hoping to get a shot of him actually looking at me and the camera. Parents of typical kids don’t usually have this issue; we special parents know how challenging even one good picture can be.
It was then that something strange happened, something different. My autistic son, who rarely gave good eye contact and rarely would stay focused for a good picture, did something incredible. He noticed me in the crowd, walked right up to me, his eyes focused directly on mine and the phone. I quickly snapped a picture for fear he might shift his gaze or change direction. Then I put the phone down and started talking to him, telling him how happy I was to be there. I said everything you would imagine any parent, yourself included, saying to your child in that moment: “Daddy Is here! I see you! I’m so proud of you!” He tried giving me a hug, hands and arms fumbling around the giant slice of everything he was wearing, and then grabbed my hand, thinking we were just leaving. I gently reminded him he was still in school for the rest of the day, he still had to finish the parade, but I would see him later. I left his school and the parade that day with a tear in my eye, because of what I just experienced. That moment, and the picture of that moment, would stay forever etched in my memory as one of the most special times of bonding that would only have been possible if life had not not been turned upside down, and I was now at home taking care of all of the various things that I was.
As I sit and write this here today in October of 2020, I can’t help but think how eerily similar this month is to that month six years ago. In terms of trauma and change, we have all been affected by how challenging COVID has made our lives, in small and large ways. Personally, I have also this year experienced the divorce and the loss of my marriage; my mother now resides in an assisted living facility, and as an only child, I have had to clean out her home and put it up for sale. I suffered a job loss, and luckily am now working again, although that loss was unwanted and unexpected. And my son? He’s 12 now, nearly 13, and is doing great, despite his challenges and all of the many changes swirling around him as well. It pains me to share that due to our custody agreement, this year I won’t be with my child for Halloween, the first one ever. I won’t have the same chance to take him trick-or-treating in our old neighborhood, get him into his costume or help him sort through the goodies when we come home. When people ask me how I’ve been able to keep my sanity through all of this, I of course reference my faith first, but I also speak to all of the blessings I’ve had even in the midst of the storm. And I never forget to look back on the gift of sweet memories such as this, happier times yes, but ironically, times that were also fraught with difficulty, just like this one.
In an interesting way, when I think about my life now and I reminisce about that picture of my son, I almost feel as though the roles are reversed, as if I’m the child in that picture now. And my Heavenly Father is the one showing up in my life unexpectedly, but I’m oh so grateful for Him standing there. I can see myself walking up to him, and Him staring back at me, saying the sweet words every child longs to hear, “Hi Son, Daddy sees you, I’m so proud of you!”
Follow John on his website: www.johnfelageller.com.
