Now That I Understand
I used to think a lot of things about my son’s autism.
Back before I really understood. Back when it was just a word on a piece of paper slid across the table to us. Slow like. As if the contents held the secrets to our future.
I thought it was something that was given to him. Placed upon his 3 year old shoulders, weighing him down.
I thought it was something we could fix. Or change.
I thought there was a part of him that was not autistic. One that we just had to find.
I was wrong about so many things. I’m going to say it again for the cheap seats in the back. I was wrong. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know. I was scared. And worried. Young. Fearful. So many things.
As he grew into himself, and I grew into autism, I opened my eyes and ears and heart and learned to see and listen and feel.
It was a painful evolution. One that I am incredibly thankful for now.
I’ll tell you a few more things too.
I used to worry that my son was lonely. And I wondered if he was happy.
Because I didn’t know. And at my core as a mom, all I have ever wanted and ever will want, is for my beautiful, smart, funny, amazing boy to be loved and treasured and happy just as he is.
He is ten years old now.
His life is not complex or full of birthday party invites or sporting events.
It’s simpler. It’s his own.
Today, he watched his old black and white train movies. He went for a walk with our family. He ate breakfast and lunch. He studied his books and magazines and lined up his DVD’s. He took a nap.
And I can say with certainty that he is happy. He is actually probably the happiest person that I know.
And lonely? Not a chance.
He has his characters in his shows. His brothers. Neighborhood kids who shout his name when he is walking. Some who even take him into their houses for paper. And a mom and dad who absolutely adore him.
I don’t worry so much anymore. Now that I understand.
It just took me some time to get here. I’m thankful he was patient with me.
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