Donovan






One of his many talents...

  He can solve a Rubix Cube in a few seconds, he can juggle, he knows karate moves, he is musical, he likes animals, he is tech-savy and athletic. He is passionate, and enjoys the company of his 20-year-old brother. He takes to the air when executing complicated skateboard tricks. This is my 14 year old son, Donovan.

Donovan was born on October 12, 1996. He came out, looking like the spitting image of his grandfather. I had considered other names for him, like Nicholas and Austin, but upon looking at him, he was definitely "a Donovan", so I succumbed to the suggestion to name him after a Canadian track star, Donovan Bailey.

When he was still very small, Donovan quickly showed us that he was a hard-core "boy". His first word was "ball", and he became very excited to see one. And it didn't matter what kind of ball it was, any kind would set him into excitedly repeating "ball! ball! ball!" over and over again. Shortly afterwards, he also demonstrated his love for anything with wheels. Soon he was situating himself in front of the big front window and watching vehicles and other mobile machinery going by. I remember looking at him from the back, facing out the front window, mesmerized by a backhoe across the street, digging posts to put in playground equipment. He was so very very cute, with his dark brown curls and his jean overalls on. He was a beautiful boy, and from infancy on, he had a bright sparkle in those brown eyes.

I don't remember him crying very much. He was a really easy baby and toddler to take care of. Even when he fell one morning in the toy room and landed on his head on the Hungry Hippo Game, he only cried for a brief moment. As we looked for the source of the blood in his mop of curls, we noticed that he had a small 1 cm cut in his scalp, and could see his skull underneath. So off to Windsor we drove to get him stitched up. The doctor wrapped Donovan like a cocoon in a sheet and then laid him face-down on the table to close up the cut. When we lifted him back up, there was one single tear running down the vinyl pillow that had been under his head, but he had not made a sound. He was approximately 18 months old at the time. Even then, it seemed that he sometimes repressed his feelings, almost as if afraid of letting them take over.

Never too excited about getting his picture taken!

At age 3, he carried his obsession with sports into daily activities in the summer. He loved to hit a baseball with a bat, and could hit a golf ball extraordinarily well. When he got to Junior Kindergarten, my older son Skylar, who was in grade 5 at the time came home and told me that the gym teacher had brought Donovan around to each classroom, instructing him to dribble a basketball for the teacher/class. I wasn't surprised. The gym teacher was as amazed at Donovan's skills as we had been!

Although a kid of few words, Donovan occasionally showed signs of being very sensitive. When I was pregnant with his sister, after putting him down for an afternoon nap, I would go check on him only to find that he had stuffed a pillow under his shirt. I'm not sure why exactly that he did that, maybe only to imitate my growing shape, to be like Mom. Donovan was always quite shy and had to be coaxed to engage in conversations with others. Once warmed up, though, that sparkle in his eye would shine and he would engage in happy chatter.



Always enjoyed company of big brother.



Donovan did show signs at an early age of being particular about what he wanted and didn't want. He often kept his posessions very organized and it their places. He didn't like others getting in his space too much, and would insist on getting his space if someone was bothering him. I remember him slapping his grandmother quite forcefully in the face at about 10 months of age after becoming increasingly annoyed by her silly faces and teasing. I know she was only trying to play with Donovan, but he was having none of it! Even to this day, Donovan has let friends "go" if they have rubbed him the wrong way. He insists that they treat him right, or not be around him at all. This particular issue prompted a change in schools after grade 7. I thought this was taking quite a passionate stand, as there was only one more year before graduation and then highschool.





Donovan wasn't really a cuddly boy, but was inquisitive and liked a challenge. However, when challenged, he had a hard time accepting anything less than perfection, and would become easily frustrated if that didn't happen. I think maybe that's why over the years, Donovan signed up for and then quit several activities, hockey, guitar, and karate. He was very good at these activities, but wanted to be the best, or not waste his time on them at all. He has had a hard time accepting less than the best of anything. Maybe someday that attitude will serve him well, but up until now, it has only added to frustration of being an adolescent and riding on the hormone rollercoaster.



Avoiding the camera...



Over the years, I have watched the sparkle slowly fade from Donovan's eyes, and it has been the hardest thing that I have had to witness. As a parent, I immediately assume this was my fault. Our family has gone through some major changes over the years, and I always hope and pray that my kids will come out on the other side of these transitions healthy, happy, and still intact as little people. Maybe, I hope to myself, it's now certain hormones which are affecting changes in his body, and causing mood swings. Maybe it's just the type of personality he has that is causing him not enjoy school, socializing with friends, and family. Maybe it's just a stage... Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Not too long ago, during our daily arguement about getting homework done, and spending hours holed up in his room on the computer, Donovan yelled some very nasty words. I stood there, frozen for a moment, feeling as if I had been slapped in the face. I don't think that as long as I live, I will ever forget those words. Speaking from experience, I know that all kids ever want is to be loved by their parents. The same is true about parents - they just want to be loved by their kids as well, so hearing this was devastating for me. Where was my little "Donnie-vin" whom I sang to, and brought to the park, made jokes with, and chatted with in the back yard, who shyly sat on Santa's lap, who snuggled with me in bed while I read bedtime stories, and who looked up to big brother Skylar? Where did he go? When did his world become so dark?



Glimmer of hope...



All I can hope for is a better tomorrow. All I can do now is pray that someday, when the raging hormones subside, and maturity sets in, Donovan will realize that I'm still standing in the sidelines waiting for the storm to pass. I can only hope that he knows, and has heard me say and demonstrate how much he and his well-being mean to me. For the beautiful moments we shared together when he was a happy baby and child, I will be forever grateful.