My son is nearly thirty-four. I am much older. He still needs me, and that is my greatest worry. Like anyone else, he has passed through every stage: childhood, adolescence, adulthood.
I bargain with myself—knowing I do—to find courage and push forward, trying to help him grow. He is fairly independent, good-natured, and has many friends he sees regularly.
When I face reality squarely, I see that what matters most to him are two things: friendship and work. For me, it is the FUTURE.
For over ten years he worked in a so-called "sheltered" workshop. He proved he could do the job well—assuming you match the person to the right role. But those ten years counted for nothing when it came to credentials.
Now he attends a vocational training center, which he must complete to have the "right" to a job. But when will that job actually come?
For him, being employed, feeling accepted, earning a wage—this is the only therapy. I am convinced that anyone who can work must work. Society must make that possible. Because only then do we recover the labor force that strengthens our whole community, and only then does he gain the dignity he deserves.
What I call the FUTURE is hardest to accept and hardest to solve. Other parents of adult children with disabilities will understand me! This is the unknown we must all face with courage and clear eyes, calling on everyone who wants to help, who can help, and who must help—so that none of us, and none of them, are left alone.