Surfers Healing 2014, Doheny State Beach

Three weeks later, I'm finally writing about our wonderful Surfers Healing adventure.

I first heard about Surfers Healing a few years ago through other autism parents on the interwebs.  They're a non-profit organization that holds surf days for children with autism.  These camps are hosted in California, Maryland, Rhode Island, Florida, and Virginia {to name a few}.  It all started when professional surfer Izzy Paskowitz and his wife Danielle discovered that taking their autistic son Isaiah out on the water was very therapeutic for him.  It helped him escape his overloading senses from the world around him, and they felt the experience would be a blessing to other families.  With the help of generous donors and volunteer surfers, they've been able to provide these days camps at no cost to autism families. 

I remember thinking "Surf days for kids with autism?  And it's free??  When do we start?!"  Caleb loves the beach.  He loves the ocean.  He loves getting knocked over by waves.  He loves thrilling things like his dad launching him in the air.  How could we not do something like this?!

We were fortunate enough to be able to coordinate our requested surf day with our Northern California friends Tracy, Oscar, and their son Conor.  As luck would have it, both of our families were assigned the same surf time as well, so we were very excited for it.  Caleb was so happy to be able to see Conor again {who had surfed for the first time last year}, and I was so happy to be able to see my fellow warrior mom.  She texted me video of Conor surfing last year, and I used it to help Caleb get used to the idea of surfing.

We met up half way with our friends at the Irvine Spectrum {to which Tracy commented, "The Spectrum?  Am I the only one who finds this hilarious?!"}.  They jumped and kicked and high fived.  We had dinner like two crazy families.

We brought Lilly along for dinner but decided not to have her with us for the surf day.  We wanted to be able to be there for Caleb as much as possible, and who wouldn't want Grammy and Grandpa lone to themselves?!  Thanks again, mom and dad, for watching her.

He was super stoked to get going.  He had been counting the days until Doheny State Beach, catching tiny  waves, and wearing a life vest.

Our instructions were to arrive very early, so that's what we did.  Under the tiki canopy there were volunteers to help us sign in, give Caleb his wrist band, and hook us up with a swag bag from Hobie Surf Shop.  It was a good thing we found Tracy pretty quickly; she helped us a bit with how things worked, because it was super busy.

Caleb headed straight for the water, like he usually does.  I don't remember ever visiting Doheny Beach.  I've been to Dana Point a few times, but never to the beach there, and let me tell you; it was the most crystal blue water I'd ever seen in Southern California.  The beaches we frequent usually have a blue/green hue to the ocean, with glass-like reflections.  We couldn't believe how clear it was.

 

Like I mentioned, it really was busy, but we were in good company.  Good company of new friends and families, where "anything goes" was the mantra.  We shared stories of sleeping, not sleeping, eating, food aversions, therapy, pooping, you name it.  No one batted an eye at the eight year old boy who was crawling around, trying to eat the sand.  Or the hand flapping, joyful girl who couldn't keep still out of excitement.       

We arrived early enough to be able to let Caleb roam and get used to the new beach.  We crossed a rocky jetty to a more quiet area and stayed there for a bit.

Before we knew it, it was time to get buckled in to the life vest.  I'm always prepared for a battle, especially when it involves new apparel {don't even get me started on shoes}, but he was really excited and let the volunteer buckle him in}. 

While waiting our turn to surf, I even spied a fellow Orange County autism mom I knew through Instagram {so lovely to meet you, Rebecca}. 

And just like that, he was whisked away.  A volunteer picked him up to carry him over the rocks where the waves were crashing, and he met his surfer.

 

This moment.  This moment right here involved so many emotions.  Excitement, anxiety, thrill, hope, peace.  Would he like it?  Was he going to be okay getting on?  And of course we couldn't help him, it was all up to the professional dudes.

They paddled out farther and farther.

Until he was just another orange speck in the distance.

They caught a wave {with Caleb on his tummy}, wiped out, and then tried to paddle back out.

I didn't catch video of this, or photos because...well, I wanted to be present and see it with my eyes and not through a lense.  And I figured he'd love it so much that I'd be able to capture him catching another wave.  But I was wrong, folks.

After I watched them paddle back out, I went from camera to iphone to using my own eyes, and I lost perspective and lost my sight of Caleb.  So far, my biggest fail ever.

I snapped a few photos of other people's kids who I thought were Caleb {it was a serious frenzy of orange rash guards out there}.

Just as we were searching and pointing, "That's him!  No, no that's him!  Wasn't our surfer wearing a hat?  What color was his board?" our volunteer walked up to us, hand-in-hand with a trembling, sobbing Caleb.

He just sank into my arms and cried "That was a big tiny wave!  I'm so proud of you."

We learned later that we didn't miss much.  He caught that one wave that we saw, wiped out, and had a rough time paddling back out, so his surfer headed back to shore.    

We snuggled on the beach, got dry, and ate our sandwiches.

I can't tell you how horrible I felt {still feel} that somehow we lost sight of him and weren't immediately there when he returned to shore.  I guess we can just add it to the list of things we'll do "for next time".

Caleb, Conor, and his friend Eli, played in the sand for a bit.

But even after a sandwich, Caleb was begging for an egg-in-a-nest, so we headed home.

We weren't even on the freeway and he crashed in the back seat.

Victory meal.

A local high school donated these sweet surfing trophies {because of course a local SoCal high school would have surfing trophies}.

I'm so thankful to have been a part of this day.  So thankful for Surfers Healing, for all of the volunteers who were so patient, considerate, and selfless.  So thankful to have been in such good company.

But of course so thankful and proud of Caleb for attempting something so truly monumental, even if the actual surfing wasn't the highlight, he so proud of himself, and so happy for that day.