Josiah follows me.  I’m fully aware he is behind me most everywhere I go.  Sometimes I stop.  He bangs right into me.  If Rick has him and I leave the room, sometimes he finds me and just stands by my side.  If I go into the bathroom, he always knows.  Before too long, the door opens.  He doesn’t knock.  He walks in.  He plops himself down on the lid of the trash can.   I expect it now.

Maybe being non-verbal he thinks I understand him best.  Maybe he thinks I will know what he needs or wants when he needs or wants it.  Maybe he’s just grateful to be home again. Maybe he does not want to leave me.  Maybe he thinks he will be whisked off to a residential center again.  I really don’t know.

I do know it’s very sweet. I love that he seeks me out. I love that I provide some sort of comfort.  I love that we have a connection, a deep bond we both enjoy.  I love that when I sit down, often times he crawls on top of me to settle in my lap.  I love that he wraps his little arm around my neck and pulls in close.

What I don’t know though is what will happen.  What will happen when I’m not here?  What will happen when God takes me home?  Who will Josiah follow then?  Who will be his comfort?  Who will he follow into the bathroom?  Whose neck will he wrap his arm around?  Whose lap will he crawl up onto?  Who will take care of him? These are things a mother shouldn’t have to think about.

We raise our children to be independent.  Our goal as parents is to work ourselves out of a job.  We train our children to become self sufficient.  To leave us.  To move on.  To create a life of their own.  Josiah won’t ever do that.  At least I don’t see that happening.  His challenges are too great.  He will always need support.

I wish he were older and I was younger.  Then,  I would always be here for him.  But I am older than Josiah.  Much older.  He will be here long after I am gone.  It’s not fair to assume his siblings will care for him.  And, I don’t know that he would be able to live in a group home.  I would never, ever, ever want him in an institution.  So what then?

I’m not a worrier.  I have great faith.  I trust God with my life.  He cares for me.  He cares for my children and loves them with a deeper, fatherly love than I could ever hope to imagine.   But, in this one area I have concern.  Not worry, just concern.  I have to let it go.  I have to trust completely that God will provide for Josiah.

I just wish I knew how.

I would want to hand select the individual or couple who would be Josiah’s caregivers.  I would want to tell them what an amazing person he is.  I would want to tell them how deeply grateful I am for them in his life.  I would want to leave them a list of his favorite foods, his favorite actitvities, his favorite outings.  I would want to warn them of the things that frighten him.  I would want to make sure they let him know his mom misses him.  I would want them to let him know every single day his mom loves him.  Immensely.

I really don’t have much of a choice,  I guess faith requires I simply trust.