Today was a rough day for my student.
Everything was going well until lunch.
Instead of bringing his lunch, he was planning to purchase the school lunch.
And suddenly I was tossed into an unknown world.
I never purchased a school lunch from the cafeteria when I was in high school, and now its all technologically advanced with all sorts of options.
I panic, asked the student if he was coming with me to get his lunch and he informed me "no, you can get it".
Great. I asked him what he wanted to eat and he tells me: pizza, macaroni and cheese, garlic bread, oranges, spicy nuggets and some other indiscernible items.
As I walk toward the dreaded lunch line with hundreds of kids waiting and so many options at the pick up window I see a light. A knight in shining armor if you will. The one hope I had to navigate this lunch line business with ease.... my son.
Though I previously agreed not to acknowledge his presence, I had to break the deal and beg, plead for help. "Psssst ELI". I half whisper. "I need help. He is buying lunch from the cafeteria and I don't know what to do!" The words that came from my sweet first born will probably stick with me forever..... "Just go get it".
Soul crushing.
Not only was I forced to navigate the scary lunch line alone, lost, and unsure of what to do, but my own child.... the one who opens doors for old people, speaks sweetly to small children, has the patience of a saint with autistic kids and all around baby whisperer... my child hung me out to dry.
I wrote him out of my will at that moment.
The revision is as follows
"and my 100 million dollar fortune goes to my son Gabriel. As for Eli just go get your own."
My poor student got a lonely sad slice of pizza. Thats it, because that was the only thing on his huge list of options that was available and I didn't know how what new fancy lunch line worked and my oldest son was a jerk face.
After the great pizza-gate of 2016, we headed off to health class. This class happens to be my student's great nemesis. He hates this class. 2.5 minutes into class an announcement came across the intercom that we must calmly evacuate the building.
Fabulous. Perhaps a little handout on how to evacuate this building with a handicap person would have been a good bit of info to be provided with.
We decided there wasn't a fire and took the elevator from the 2nd floor to the 1st then hoofed it to the field where we were totally lost among 2300 students because apparently there is a different evacuation plan for this kiddo.
Awesome.
To add to the drama of the evacuation a counselor came up to my student and I and started talking about what the plan should be for the future in case of an emergency when the student couldn't use the elevator. She suggested he have some friends from class carry him.
In was in that moment that tears started rolling down his cheek and I saw his pain.
All he wants to be is a high school kid with friends and this disability of his keeps creeping up in every single aspect of his life.
I cried a little too and blamed it on the sun shining in my eyes and then I prayed that God would be real to this kid. Jesus came to bind up the broken hearted and I see that his heart is broken. He is lonely, he is sad, and he is without hope.
The vein that runs through all of the troubles of his life is his disability and I pray that God will turn the struggles of his youth to a powerful positive influence to others.
We both left school a little exhausted, discouraged, and glad the day is over.
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