Our soon-to-be five year old grandson is a bright, beautiful, loving child, all boy for sure yet with a sweetness that at times can melt the hardest heart. He's always been an active toddler and like many children found it difficult to sit still for long. It wasn't until about 2 years ago that we began to realize that he was showing signs of hyperactivity and, to our distress, an aggressive and unpredictable nature. In the course of a short period of time, we could watch as he went from being almost over-the-top "up" only to plummet quickly to an extreme low. Normal temper tantrums escalated to him physically attacking people, throwing whatever he could reach, screaming threats of bodily harm and an increase in physical strength well out of proportion to his size. Having held him as tightly as possible during one of these episodes to protect both him and whoever his target was at the time, I can attest to the magnitude of of the storm raging inside this small boy. It is without a doubt, the most draining, unworldly thing a grandparent can experience as you watch this cloud consume the bright eyes and mind of a child until the rage subsides and the child collapes in your arms sobbing from the experience.
Thanks to determined family, concerned medical personnel and the grace of God, it was finally determined that he was both bipolar and ADHD. This diagnosis was as foreign a concept to our family as any that could have been made. His mother, prepared for the ADHD pronouncement, was shocked into total disbelief and denial by the bipolar component. It seemed absolutely impossible that something like this could afflict any child in our family. We had been blessed by healthy, happy children and naturally expected our grandchildren to be afforded the same type of life. So it was, with a heavy heart, we began our efforts to gain as much insight into his disorder and ways to help him as humanly possible. The internet proved a neverending source of information and support, starting with bpkids and branching out to other informational and support sites. My daughter devoted countless hours to learning about medication and coping mechanisms and has become a self-taught expert on this condition. Although only 19 when her son was born, she quickly developed the insight and devotion necessary to doing whatever it might take to ease her son's suffering and guide him to places and people that could help.
One such place is a wonderful school in Baltimore The Children's Guild that we were fortunate enough to have available in our area, and with much help from a group of very special people our grandson was able to gain admittance to this marvellous school. As he happily boards his big yellow school bus each morning, we know that not only is he getting the education he deserves, he's also getting the attention and therapy necessary to ensure that he is equipped with all the knowledge of how to cope with and understand his condition that will give him a happy, healthy life.
All of these thoughts have been passing through my mind lately due to a very special and unexpected happening in my office on Friday. My daughter was helping out in the office and a very nice, elderly gentleman came in to ask if we had a scrap piece of pipe he could purchase. He apparently wanted to slowly curve a piece of wood for his boat railing and needed the pipe to act as a kind of sweat chamber to soften the wood. We always have a barrel of scrap pieces of many kinds of pipe in our warehouse so I took him back into that area and we found a piece that would serve his purpose. When he asked me the cost, I told him to please jsut take it at no charge, after all it was only scrap. He smiled and said "In that case, I have something for you too." Not knowing what to expect, I went back into the office as he went out to his car. Several minutes later, he reappeared and handed me a delightful looking children's book with pictures of whales on the cover entitled Tailey Whaley As I thanked him he said "I didn't draw the pictures but I did write the book". As I stood there stunned, I noticed that he had taken the time to autograph the inside. When he asked if I had anyone to give the book to, I spoke of my 5 wonderful grandchildren, all the while looking through the book. As we chatted I read the summary of the story about a whale that had been born with an extremely large tail and was consistently teased and tormented by his peers. Because he was different, the other whales could not easily accept him, but with the help of his mother and a series of wonderful events, he was accepted for who he was. The moral of the story seemed to be that everyone is different in some way and all true friends are special treasures.
This story seemed so fitting for our "special treasure" and I decided that our 5 year old grandson would be the recipient of this grand surprise. As Charles Boyle, the author, sat down and inscribed this book to our grandson, both my daughter and I were fighting the tears welling up in our eyes at this sweet gesture from a complete stranger. And as he was given the book that evening, our grandson immediately recognized the whales and with total delight, he saw the inscription including his name. "Mommy, it has my name in it!" he squealed with happiness. The book now occupies a special place reserved for only a few well-loved books and will be treasured for a long time to come. Little does he realize at his tender age that this book is indeed about him and will serve to illustrate that anything is possible as long as you believe in yourself.
Thank you Mr. Boyle and all my love to my little buddy.