First College Days . . .

Two weeks ago, TJ started college. Though it’s close to home, he’s living on campus. In the last fourteen days, he’s had to get himself up and to class, find the dining hall during mealtimes, manage severe weather (which would have sent him over the edge a few years ago), a fire alarm (back over the edge!), and countless new people, places, and routines. He’s done well.  

I’m excited, terrified, and mostly dumbfounded.

How did he get here?

When diagnosed just before his third birthday, our pediatrician told us, “Don’t worry. He’ll probably hold a job someday.” He was, of course, misguided (and probably a little jaded by his own experience with his recently diagnosed grandson), but we had no one to suggest that the doctor might be underestimating him. So we were terrified. But I’ve been accused of being an optimist. And though all empirical information we had suggested otherwise, I had hope. And faith.

Sixteen years and many, many hours of TJ-driven extra work, to say he exceeded expectations grossly understates his progress. He’s absolutely crushing life and I don’t expect him to stop any time soon!