A spark of hope
Enter Linda McCullough, a 53-year-old divorced mom in Kincardine, Ont. “When my daughter Jen was in high school, I never dreamed she’d ever live on her own,” she says. When Jen was in her twenties, she was offered a spot in a supported living apartment. The hitch? Her roomie would have been a guy. So McCullough and Jen joined forces with another family to create Plan B. Now 27, Jen shares a townhouse and daily life with her good friend Rosie. While both contribute to living expenses, Jen pays rent to Rosie’s parents who bought the house in trust for their daughter. Rosie is more independent but has some physical limitations, so she handles tasks such as writing shopping lists while Jen tackles housecleaning.
Here’s where the inspiring part comes in. I assumed that Jen must have skills far beyond that of my daughter, but that’s not the case. Although bubbly and outgoing, Jen also has a developmental disability and limited speech (like a two-year-old). Since she’s mystified by the concept of time, she uses alarms to remind her to brush her teeth or get ready for the taxi. With some ingenious problem solving, McCullough and Jen are making it work.
“I have a little more freedom now,” McCullough says, although she still sees or phones Jen with reminders most days. And every other Saturday, she picks up her daughter to live at home for the weekend when they shop for the week’s food, mostly frozen dinners to reheat. Cooking’s still a bit iffy — unless Rosie’s also home for dinner. “Jen has already set two microwaves on fire when she was alone,” her mom explains. In reality, McCullough does the job of a support worker, along with her ex-husband, Chris, who spends every second weekend with Jen.
Time for herself
But now she’s got a new love in her life. Just as Jen moved out, McCullough met her boyfriend, Keith, a photographer. Next summer, they’re hightailing it to Nova Scotia — her first vacation ever without Jen. And Jen has travel plans of her own — an escorted trip to Niagara Falls, Ont. To help her earn travel funds, Keith gave Jen a part-time job shredding paper at his studio. Eventually, McCullough wants to reduce her hands-on help with her daughter. “By the time I’m 60, I’m hoping she’ll be set. I’m seeing such leaps in maturity.” And after years working full-time as a shipper/receiver, McCullough dreams of cutting back to make time for her real passion — sewing. “I want something for me.”
Okay — I’m feeling more optimistic. If McCullough and Jen can pave the way to independence, we can too. Talia can read and type, speak clearly and tell the time. We’re well connected in our community. Maybe Talia’s already met her future housemate. I realize I’ve got to stop doing so much for her. The next day, I go on breakfast-duty strike and show Talia how to toast her own cinnamon bagel.
I troll further for mentors and find Martha Eleen, a Toronto-based artist and single mom to 31-year-old Gabe, who can never be left alone. Eleen says Gabe is legally blind, uses a wheelchair, has epilepsy and is considered mentally challenged. “But he’s smart in some ways. He has many interests.” For years, Eleen’s life was consumed with parenting Gabe, coping with welfare living and “strenuously” lobbying the government for individualized funding — money attached to a person instead of a program. “I didn’t want a group home for him; I wanted him to live in the same world as me.”
