Autism isn’t a Scary Word

Someone I know is dying.

Someone who is in my life.

She has a spouse. And kids. Grandkids. A sibling.

A home. Friends. Hobbies. Faith. A life.

A very full life.

She is a beautiful person with a beautiful soul.

She found out a year ago that she has cancer.

I remember when she told me. I didn’t think it was a big deal. Probably because she is such a good person.

Bad things don’t happen to good people.

So happy. So optimistic.

I knew cancer was bad. But she is strong. So I wasn’t that scared.

I was also busy. I was moving. I was pregnant. I had two other kids.

And life has a way of going on. It doesn’t stop for things like cancer.

Then I googled.

The median survival for pancreatic cancer is 12 months.

12 months. 365 days. 1 spring. 1 summer. 1 fall. 1 winter.

It’s been 1 year since I found out.

I’m scared.

And I’ve been spending the last few days before we go say goodbye thinking about life. And death.

Because for once in my life, I don’t know what to say.

Words. They always come easy to me. But not this time.

When Cooper was diagnosed with autism I thought it was a scary word.

I was terrified of the unknown. Of the future. Would he ever talk? Live on his own? Have a life outside of our home?

I didn’t know the answers to any of my questions.

And either did anyone else.

As he’s gotten older, I’m not so afraid anymore. Because I know I will make it okay for him.

Cooper is wrapped so tightly in love that we will do everything in our power to give him his best life.

Autism isn’t a scary word.

But cancer.

That is a scary word.

I’ve been slowing down the last few days too.

Because of that word.

I’m holding my baby longer. I’m not jumping up to do a load of never ending laundry or wash dishes.

I’m building more Legos with Sawyer.

I’m taking more walks around our neighborhood. And holding a hand whenever I can.

I’ve been spending more time with Cooper. Which is funny to say. Because I spend all of my time with Cooper.

What I mean is more meaningful time. I’ve been tickling him more. And having him say ‘M-O-M’ more.

I’ve been kissing their heads. And smelling their hair.

It’s funny in a way. The timing of things.

At a time when I am scared of death and slowing down to soak up every minute of my beautiful life, I’ve been getting an uptick in online hate.

You know. The usual…None of it’s new.

I’m a terrible mother. I’m psychotic. I should just die. Cooper should just commit suicide with a mother like me.

Some write these things on my page. Some email them to me.

Some with a lot of time even make videos. Which I don’t watch. Because, why?

They talk about how much they hate me. People that have never met me.

I’ve been busy though. Too busy to care really.

Instead I’ve been trying to find the courage to say goodbye to a dying woman. And dancing in the living room with my kids.

I’ve been hugging my husband. And putting my cold feet on his legs in bed. I’ve been putting my phone down. And asking him to sit in the backyard with me.

Because of cancer.

Cancer. That scary word has one positive though.

It shows you what really matters.

And it’s not strangers on the internet that have never met me. That judge me.

It’s the people in your life. The relationships.

The people in your picture frames.

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