Special Mom's Retreat 2008

Mother's Day Extraveganza!

I looked around at the other 15 women sitting in the living room—all mothers of special-needs kids. What was I—a childless, never-married women with no particular interest in children—doing here?

Actually, I had my own special-needs kid to think about—Cameron, the four-year-old grandson of my sister, a boy with mild autistic disorder, my grand-nephew. I was born and raised in Tennessee, but now live in New Hampshire. On three separate occasions during the past few years, I’ve temporarily moved back down South to live with Cameron and help with his training. I’m currently living with him in Huntsville, where he attends the Riley Behavioral and Educational Center every day.

So I was intrigued when I received an email from the Making Connections autism support group in Huntsville about a “Special Mom’s Retreat” to be held two days on Mother’s Day weekend 2008 in Cullman. Relaxation! Spa treatments! Sharing! The $100 charge—for Friday night accommodations, breakfast and lunch on Saturday, and spa treatments—seemed reasonable, and I signed up.

The Friday of the retreat, I was already excited from receiving my first Mother’s Day present ever. Cameron had given me a potted plant that he had put together in school, and handed it to me saying “I love you, Vicki” (actually, he said “I love you, Bicki”).

There was a pre-retreat activity at the Ave Maria Grotto in Cullman—something I had wanted to see for decades but had never gotten to. The grotto—miniature replica Bible scenes created in an old stone quarry by a Benedictine monk—is listed on the National Registry of Historic Sites.

I met Dr. Berry, the organizer of the weekend, at the grotto, and found out more about the group. I had never even heard the phrase “cover school” and knew next to nothing about home schooling.

I had dinner at a restaurant that evening with a home-schooling mom from Montgomery.

We all got together that evening at the Benedictine Sisters Retreat Center at the Sacred Heart Monastery in Cullman, in two-person rooms at the Benet House. The rooms were immaculately clean and the entire place seemed well cared for. Our rooms had views of the pond and grounds. And sitting on every bed was a Mother’s Day gift bag, put together by Christie.

Sister Tonette, the gracious, dignified manager of the retreat center, welcomed us. One of her comments was unforgettable—don’t use the face cloths to take off our makeup. Well, okay! (This was actually written in the retreat center flyer: “Please use tissue to remove make-up before using face cloths.” It became a running joke for some of us.)

There was a speaker Friday night, a woman who had three children with diabetes, one of whom also had Asperger’s syndrome and cystic fibrosis. She gave a Sunday School talk about turning lemons into lemonade.

Then we had what for me was the highlight—sitting around eating snacks and sharing our experiences with our special-needs kids. (The evening was alcohol-free because that was what the Benedictine sisters preferred.)

Most of the women had children on the autism spectrum, though there was also a woman with a Down’s syndrome child and a woman with two girls who had a genetic heart condition. Both of the girls had received heart transplants when they were infants, and one of them developed rare, unexpected complications that had left her debilitated in numerous ways, though her mind seems intact. This mother said she had been through hell the last four years.

Another memorable story was told by a young widow with four young children, three of whom were on the autism spectrum. This woman seemed to be unbelievably resilient and showed practically no hint of distress. She amazed me.

Many of the women were home schoolers, including the mother of a young boy who had been kicked out of two private schools because of behavior problems.

Some of us stayed up very late talking. I got to bed at 1:45 Saturday morning—the latest I’ve gotten to bed in a very long time.

But I woke up in time to have some spa treatments—first a foot bath, and then Christie gave me an “auricular treatment” (acupuncture in the ear).

And I had a chair massage that actually worked! Maybe I just don’t like lying down and having a stranger work on my body, because I’ve never enjoyed having a massage. But this massage was deep and intense, done while I was sitting in the massage chair with my clothes on, and I was able to relax into it. It’s no exaggeration to say that it was the best massage I’ve ever had.

One disappointment was that Christie had been unable to find a manicurist. Some of us had been looking forward to having our nails done. “I haven’t cut my nails for two weeks!” one of the women said.

Then I toured the grounds, walking to the cemetery, which contained row on row of white crosses. The monastery has been in existence for over 100 years, and the dozens and dozens and dozens of graves of the sisters who have made it their home confirmed it. I’ve seen numerous graves of men at military parks, but this was the first time I’d ever seen so many graves of women.

Sister Tonette gave those of us who were interested a tour of the monastery. I almost skipped this tour, but was so glad I didn’t. I found it all fascinating, just because I was in such a mellow mood. It’s a monastery, not a convent, we learned, and the women who live there call themselves sisters, not nuns.

After lunch, we gave ourselves a facial with the help of a representative from Mary Kay Cosmetics. I bought some products, and—ha ha—I’m actually using them!

Most of us had left by 4 pm, but we were invited to stay longer for vespers, if we wanted. I wanted to stay, but there was a slight storm in the air, so I left before vespers. But I regretted that as soon as I got home. I should have stayed for vespers.

My other regret is that I didn’t get up early on Saturday morning to walk around the pond and listen to nature sounds. I live in a city, and don’t get to experience intense nature sounds unless I go out of my way. And here they were—but I was sleeping instead.

I had an excellent time playing a mom on the first weekend I ever experienced Mother’s Day from the mother’s perspective. The Mom’s Retreat was an intense and rewarding 24 hours, and it was a thrill to meet so many women who actually understand what it’s like to have a special-needs child day in and day out. I’ve found that teachers and doctors—even teachers and doctors who specialize in special-needs kids—don’t fully understand what it’s like to take care of a special-needs child on a 24 by 7 basis.

The moms at the Mom’s Retreat understand.

Vicki Meagher

Nashua, NH