independence

“Mom, I want to live on campus too,” Micah insists after I tell a friend that he is going to be part of NDSU’s TAP program and that 90 percent of these students live on its premises—away from their homes and caregivers.

I admonish myself for divulging this information (once again) within earshot of my son. I know better than anyone not to get his hopes up. Truth be told, I want Micah to be able to do what most other TAP students are doing. I want him to experience this kind of independence! I want him to enjoy the gamut of college life: classes, clubs, meeting new friends, hanging out at the student union, staying up late without me bugging him to get to bed.

But living on his own? Sleeping in a college dorm room without anyone to check on him during the night to make sure his blood sugar is in range—that he’s not low or high? What if he had a stubborn blood sugar low (we’ve had a few of those lately)? What if his insulin pump failed and his blood sugar went too high?

To grant Micah’s wish for independence at this moment is risky.

It is not an easy decision and never will be.

Frankly, I’m not ready to lose that much sleep, as I would worry endlessly.

On the other hand, what if we refuse Micah this opportunity? What if we deny him this next step toward living the life he is meant to live–one of realizing his potential, of all that he can learn to do on his own? After all, Todd and I will not always be around to help him should he outlive us–as I pray he will.

I know there are organizations that provide caregivers who can be with someone overnight. But perhaps there is a student who could be a roommate to our son, maybe a person who also has type 1 diabetes.

As with so many situations throughout Micah’s life journey, this one is no different. It’s one step at a time, one year at a time. That is all that is necessary—all I can handle at present.

What I do know is that we thank God that the TAP program exists, and that Micah will be a part of it. He will thrive, he will grow, and he’ll develop friendships. I’d love to look into a crystal ball at the end of three years and see just how far he will have come.

In the meantime, I will tuck away Micah’s desire to live on campus for a little while longer. This year is too soon, if perhaps just for me.

So, what do I say during the many times he’s heard me explain to others about the TAP program and he expresses this desire of living on campus?

“Micah—it’s a little too soon. But, yes, that is the goal—for you to gain independence and be able to eventually live on your own. We are so proud of you for wanting this, and God-willing and with His help, we will do everything we can to make it happen.”