Good Enough

When I took Mark back to his house, I hoped there would be a staff member who knew him well.

There wasn’t.

There was one who had worked at his residence for less than a week and had been with Mark only a handful of times.

I had been in the car for more than eight hours, having driven from Houston to Dallas that morning and then from Cross Roads to Addison and back. John’s job is in Houston now — a job we need for him to have — but I need to be near Mark much of the time.

I was seeing Mark in the middle of the week and taking him to a sports skills class with a great mentor he had seen for ten years. Mark needed to see me more than just on the weekends — and to see the coach still.

I knew I would feel obligated to observe a little because there was new staff, and yet I didn’t want to hover. It’s clear that Mark is an adult and that this is his primary home now, one without a mom and a dad. He receives support but is treated like an adult there.

I’m not the boss of the house or of Mark there — or anywhere — but even less so there than in our family home. I didn’t want to feel I had to introduce Mark to them or that I had to stay, when I was already exhausted.

Mark was missing the Wednesday community center dinner, so someone brought his meal back for him.

I saw Mark glance over to see which staff was with him.

I saw that he knew she was new.

I saw in his eyes that he was happy about that meal.

I saw him go to the fridge to get ketchup, which made sense, and shredded mozzarella cheese, which didn’t.

I saw him sprinkle a quarter of an inch of cheese over everything on his plate and then go sit down to eat.

I had heard her ask him what he was getting and heard him say only “ketchup.”

I heard her say, without judgment, “That’s a lot of cheese.”

I heard her ask if he needed some water and also if he had fun at his sports skills class.

I heard enough to convince me that he was fine with her and she was fine with him.

When I got back to my house, I enjoyed how much Mark has grown, I have grown, and his supported living community has grown.