Why look for answers
where none occur.”
There’s something unfolding and I’m so ambivalent about it that I don’t even know how to start this post. That happens sometimes when I try to write about tricky feelings. Usually the act of writing provides a clear point of view, enough that I can scroll back up and re-write a couple of sense-making introductory sentences. If you’re reading this, it’s safe to assume that my ambivalence remains.
Two-plus years into life in Sweden and we are tapping into a service that didn’t exist for our son, with his complex developmental disabilities, in the US. It’s affectionately known in Swedish as kortis, which loosely translates as shorty, and is literally short for korttidsboende (short-term residence).
Kortis offers kids with significant cognitive, behavioral or physical disabilities a place to spend some time away from home, usually a weekend a month, a week or two during the summer, and sometimes one or more nights during the week depending on the person’s needs and family situation.
It’s good for a bunch of reasons. Social workers refer to this service as respite, which is so uncommon in the US that if you’re like me, you may need help figuring out how to pronounce it. (It’s RESS-pit.) For us, that means the chance to sleep in, move more slowly, finish a thought, grab a daytime movie, to catch up on home improvement projects, and spend some uninterrupted time with our daughter. (Yes, I’ve been daydreaming.)
The benefits for our son are many; he doesn’t normally get sleep-overs or sleep-away camp, but suddenly he’ll have weekends filled with outings, movie nights, good food and time away from his sometimes over-protective, boring and/or exhausted parents. He’ll get the chance to practice skills that he’ll need when it comes time to move away from home, too. Most importantly, it’s a stimulating change of scene for a kid whos world could stand to be a bit bigger.
And in our new life, kortis is available to us, close to home, with plenty of qualified staff. And it’s free.
Even so, there’s a lot I don’t feel good about. For starters, there’s the terror of letting my more-vulnerable-than-average kid spend a prolonged amount of time with adults who aren’t family. Do I need to get into the depths of that terror? Compound it with how easy it is to feel like a failure as a parent when you finally admit that in order to get your family life to work, one of your kids will spend time away from home.
But after two years of telling the agency powers that be, “thanks but no thanks,” we finally have to admit that our son has needs that we can’t meet. We’re resolved to make it work.
It’s been several months of slow transition: first our tour of the kortis house, then a meeting with the in-take coordinator. Then our son had dinner at the house (once with us tagging along, then once without us), and a first attempt at a sleep-over that ended with a call home at 11:30pm when our son was too excited to fall asleep. Tonight my husband is camping out with him at the house, in an attempt to get him through the night. Several more baby-steps may be needed until he adjusts. Until we do too.
Deep down, I know that it will be great for all of us. But for now, I’m sorry-grateful, regretful-happy. That kortis is an option for us. And that we need it.