THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 21, 1994 TAG: 9408230591
SECTION: HAMPTON ROADS WOMAN PAGE: 03 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY PHILIP WALZER, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 148 lines
LIKE MANY mothers, Rosemarie Hughes faced the dilemma of whether to stay at home with her son or get out and jump-start her career. But her choice was tougher than most.
Hughes was in her late 30s, and she wanted to fulfill her life's dream of becoming a counselor.
To do that, she'd have to upend her son Chris' life. Chris was in his late teens and severely mentally handicapped, unable to dress or shave himself or communicate very well. He'd spent nearly all his life at home with her. He'd have to go to a residential facility.
Hughes knew the answer: Both mother and son needed to get out.
``If we had to stay at home, we'd both go stir-crazy,'' recalls Hughes, now 50. ``What good would it do me to stay home and take care of Chris? And what would happen to him when I died? He would be a middle-aged person suddenly thrust into the world. He needed what we all need - a job and a sense of independence. . . .
``I've seen too many families whose lives were focused on one person. They become very sheltered. Too many are left at the age of 45 without the ability to interact with anyone else.''
So Hughes got her doctorate at Regent University and went to work, first as a high school counselor with the Norfolk school system and then teaching at Regent. In April, she was appointed dean of the School of Counseling and Human Services. And Chris moved to a residential vocational center in Zuni when he was 22 and later to a group home in Virginia Beach, getting a job as a drill-press operator in a supervised workshop.
She tells their success stories without much emotion, self-pity or melodrama, downplaying any pain or indecision she may have had. ``I don't fall apart easily,'' Hughes said. ``God always granted me grace.''
Yet occasionally a feeling of loss, doubt, even helplessness, seeps through her rock-hard exterior. ``I feel good to see him constantly improving,'' she said, ``but I have to fight the feeling sometimes of why did this happen to Chris? That doesn't really ever totally go away. I know I'll never know why. But I still haven't worked it out completely.''
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Hughes' life may no longer revolve around Chris, but almost every aspect of it is inextricably linked to him.
She chose her career to help others who faced the problems she and her family withstood. One of her books - ``Parenting a Child with Special Needs'' - has autobiographical undertones.
She says one of the chief benefits of her religious rebirth was a belated coming-to-terms with Chris' disabilities. Even her political views have been shaped by his experience.
Chris, now 28, is the second of her four sons. In one breath, she'll discuss the pleasant points: He loves sports, including basketball, even though he's just 5-foot-6. ``He has a very engaging personality,'' Hughes said. ``If he saw you for the first time, he'd put his hand out and say, `Nice to meet you.' ''
But just as quickly, she'll detail his disabilities. He's got Coffin-Lawry Syndrome, a rare disorder. ``He doesn't have the ability to make his own way in the world. He has no sense of money. He can read basic directional words, but he can't read a book. He can make himself a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, but he can't cook an omelet.''
Hughes had her ups and downs coping with it all - the constant moves as a Navy spouse, the troubles communicating with a husband whom she later divorced, the juggling act of raising Chris and three other boys.
But she gained her equilibrium when she rediscovered God at a prayer group in 1976. Her strengthened faith removed her worries about Chris' future after she dies: ``God said to me, `I love this child more than you can ever love him, and I will provide for him.' ''
And, finally, she came to accept her son the way he was: ``I was able to look at Chris and say, `This is the one I got and I have to love him and accept him just as he is.' I never longed again for the Chris I didn't have.''
Hughes, who has since remarried, has Chris over to her Virginia Beach house every other weekend. During those first months apart, she kept an even keel, barely suffering from the empty nest syndrome (though she admits that she sometimes wondered what clothes he was wearing and whether he was brushing his teeth).
``I'm not `Oh gee, my kids are gone, what am I going to do with my life?' That's not for me,'' she said. ``The next is always coming.''
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And the next was a rapid rise in academe, from assistant professor to dean in less than 10 years. George Selig, the provost at Regent, praises her as a bright, hard worker who is in no way mealy-mouthed. ``She always challenges the status quo,'' Selig said. ``With the things we have always done, she says, `Why are we doing it this way? Wouldn't this be better?' ''
Some of her views, in fact, diverge from the ideology of many conservative Christians. She believes, for instance, in health care reform. ``I see so many people who can't get health care because they can't get insurance,'' she said.
She believes Christians need psychological counseling, too. ``They may even need it more so'' because of their heightened awareness that ``things aren't right.''
And she believes in the role of schools in building kids' self-esteem, though the self-esteem movement has taken some kicks lately from the right. ``Some kids aren't getting positive affirmation from the people around them,'' she said.
As dean of counseling, she wants to revamp the curriculum to better intertwine ``faith and knowledge.'' She wants to win national accreditation. She wants to start a doctoral program. ``I would like people to think of Regent when they think of Christian counseling,'' she said.
Moving to the administrative ranks wasn't an easy decision for Hughes. ``I prayed a lot about this - is this what I want to do? - because it will take me out of the classroom,'' she said.
But no more agonizing. Like her decision with Chris, she knows it's the right one. She's not looking back. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
BILL KELLEY III/Staff
Rosemarie Hughes, a dean at Regent University, visits with her son
Chris, foreground, while her sons, Nick Hughes, left background, and
Shawn Cook watch television. Chris is a drill-press operator in a
workshop.
Graphic
PARENTAL TIPS
These are a handful of tips from Rosemarie Hughes for parents of
children with ``special needs.'' But they could apply to almost
anybody:
``It's OK not to be perfect. You're going to have to accept that
you're going to make mistakes. If you don't make mistakes, you're
not going to do anything.''
``God is always there, even though you don't see God's
manifestation every day. God does not live in doubt, but it's OK to
think that some days - God can handle it.''
``Love will get you through,'' whether it's the love of your
children, friends or God.
``Laugh a lot.'' Hughes recalls the time she and Chris walked down
an aisle at church. She wanted to sit in one pew, and he wanted
another. ``He lets out this loud expletive. It wasn't funny at the
time, but now I think it's funny.''
by CNB