It has been 5 1/2 years since I have last written on this page. I am going to try to summarize the time. There has been a lot.
My kids did go to public school. There were ups and downs of course. David had a lovely teacher for Kindergarten to third grade. Then he switched to a Learning Support teacher who said teaching Autistic kids was not one of her strengths. David reported that she was standing over him and yelling at him to focus. I had to switch him to the other elementary school mid-fourth. There he flourished.
In fall of 2012 my dad got sick. I took him for tests and they found stage-4 colon cancer. They gave him 5 years to live. One month later he was on a feeding tube. Two months after that he was gone. It had hit his pancreas. He was 61.
In the week following, my niece had her second seizure (the first one had been in November as I was nursing Dad and required medi-vac) and went via ambulance to the hospital. I can report that now at the age of 4 1/2 she is off seizure meds. They seemed to have been febrile but she did not come out of them even with the standard meds the EMT’s administered.
April of 2013 we lost my dad’s dog, Bailey, to a brain tumor.
That July we lost my grandmother. She survived Hep-C, pancreatic cancer (over 20 yrs ago), and diabetes. She died from a form of ALS that attacked the muscles in her mouth and throat.
I was working full-time for the Cradle of Liberty Boy Scout Council in Wayne at the time all these things happened. I was still in my dad’s house. But, we needed a change. I was not happy with the neighborhood or the school district. And the only close family we had nearby was my grandfather. I decided to look toward Lancaster County. My sister and her family live there. Heck, even my ex-husband was living there. It seemed to reason that the kids could see him more and I would see my sister more.
It also didn’t hurt that my two nearest neighbors were slandering me: calling various agencies trying to get me in trouble. Each and every time it was dismissed as groundless. The final straw was the phone call to Children and Family accusing me of neglect. The U-Haul truck had already taken a lot of my thing off to a storage in Lancaster, but we were still living in the house–trying to empty it and go through my dad’s belongings. I was furious. These were people who were supposed to be friends and–through marriage–family.
I took the kids to Scott’s house that night and they never returned to that house or neighborhood again.