The Restaurant

The teenagers were sitting at various tables in the restaurant. They were full of life, a little on the loud side, but very excited. I couldn’t help but notice them as I waited for the rest of my friends to arrive for our monthly get together. The chaperones or teenagers with them, were keeping them in line, so to speak, in case they should get too loud or be inappropriate in some way. I couldn’t help but notice their excitement: their wide eyes, their smiles, their eagerness to be not only in the restaurant, but fully listening to every word, as if it were the greatest day of their life. There wasn’t any part of the conversation that didn’t hold their attention. When it was their turn to talk, they did so eagerly, asking questions of the person sitting across from them and enjoying their food.

There was a stark contrast between these teenagers and the other patrons in the restaurant. With the other patrons you could tell, even at a distance, who was engaged in the conversation and who was not. Some people did all of the talking while some people did all of the listening. At times, some of them looked engaged in the conversation and at other times, not so much. There seemed to be no real order to their conversation and no real flow.

But when I looked at these teenagers, there was no doubt that they were interested in the conversation. Not only were they interested, but they were asking a lot of questions, eagerly awaiting their answers. Once they answered the question, it would remind them of another similar experience and they would tell the story with such vigor, as if it were happening for the very first time. You could just feel the energy.

As I watched them, I couldn’t help but think how totally engaged they were in the moment. They were living fully in every second at the restaurant. I thought back to my own life, and how when I was younger, I often fantasized about how it would be to have my first house, then my first "new" house and the list goes on and on. Once I purchased the house, then my thoughts would shift to decorating the house. Of all of the different types of furniture I would like and how I wanted the rooms to feel.

And then a few years ago, when Dear Son started deteriorating, I began to remember what it was like previously, when he could walk with a walker and stand on his knees.

And then I thought back to my wedding day and how as much as I tried to take in every moment of that day, I just couldn’t. It seemed like it went so fast. I couldn’t savor it all. There were just too many things happening on that day that warranted my attention.

As I looked back over the various times in my life, I realized that I was busy anticipating the future or looking over the past, but the present would sometimes escape me. And yet, here were these teenagers in the restaurant, fully engaged in the moment. As you might have guessed by now, these were Special Education students out with other students in the class. They spoke eagerly with the “normal” students. I couldn’t help but think that they got it right. Not just today, but every day. They live absolutely every day, “in the moment”.

My mind shifted to my own Dear Son, later that evening, as he watched the cat put his paws on the fishbowl. He looked at the cat and then looked at me, eagerly waiting for the cat to “get in trouble” for having his paws on the fishbowl and eating the water plant on top. As soon as I said something to the cat, Dear Son was just full of laughter over it all.

It makes me wonder sometimes, how they got it right. Maybe it’s because we spend too much time living with our heads and they live every day from their hearts. Sometimes, it’s good to be Special Needs. After all, sometimes you have to teach the “normal” people a good lesson.