a house is a home
It’s clear to me his tenacity for independence,
His desire to stir up the world,
And leave his mark,
While life revolves around a laden therapy schedule,
Reliant on me facilitating,
Becoming more demanding,
And encumbering day by day,
His drive if my life raft.
And so we float on.
A home program extends the skills learnt in our sessions,
Into our everyday.
A house is a home when it meets your needs,
And is filled with laughter and love.
Our house is our home,
Tweaked to unwrap his child-drive adventure.
Safe to explore,
To be challenged,
To be part of,
New parallel bars adorn our back deck,
So walking games are readily played.
A church pew just his height,
Fills the length of his bedroom wall.
Foam steps scatter the floor,
An obstacle course ready made.
Chairs and stools of varying shapes,
Lay waiting for the ideal need.
Soft matting hides hard polished floorboards,
To cushion his fall shall he stubble.
Rollers and bolsters stashed by his window,
Wait patiently should urge to dive over strike.
And tucked up by his bed,
At the gap in safety rails
Sits a special square block of foam,
To climb up at the close of each long day,
And settle himself in for sweet dreams.
A house is a home,
Where I walk into his room,
And there he stands,
Up right on both feet,
By the pew welcoming his game,
A smile on his face,
At what he’s just been able to achieve.
His house is his home,
His life is his own.
We just do anything we can,
To help make them fit hand in hand.