Yukon, Bear, and I have been in lovely Fairbanks, Alaska the past three days scouting out a potential group home situation for Wolf, and doing our annual Interior visit to this wonderful community.
In a crazy twist of weather-fate, yesterday reminded me of the stories told by my eastern Montana-raised mother of blizzards, howling winds, and driving snow that hurt when it hit the face. We woke up Monday morning to almost 18 inches of snow, crazy wind gusts, and flickering power at our hotel.
Thankfully we had accomplished most of our AKontheGO missions, but did have to have hotel staff (our friend C. is the manager here) haul out the snowblower to get us out of our parking space so we could make it to the meeting with said group home staff.
We were pleased with the meeting; staff seem to be on the same wavelength as our family, they operate as a "family", and work hard with the young men and women to achieve independence so necessary to survive in the "real world". I left there feeling as if we had finally found a fit. A hole that is square enough to accommodate my four-cornered-kid. Time will tell, of course, but I think he'll do well up here.
Yukon drove us downtown in a wind tunnel of blowing snow to the School District offices, where we gathered paperwork for an impending IEP (something I am totally unfamiliar with since the Anchorage School District never felt Wolf was "disabled enough" to require one-don't get me started). Standing there, talking about "my son", making plans that after three years actually, physically require me to do something, felt strange and wonderful at the same time.
I could see Yukon felt the same way, too.