People often write about the challenges of having a child with autism. Yes, it can be hard. But not how people think. For me — and I can only speak for myself — it’s hard when my son faces challenges. It’s hard when I have to fight for services that should be a given. It’s hard when the insurance companies don’t pay for what we need or when a provider doesn’t take our insurance. Other’s people ignorance is hard. But my son, he is a joy. He is a bright light in a dark tunnel. He is the life preserver I need when I am drowning in the system.
Here are the eight best ways my son with autism brings me joy:
1. To people driving by, my yard looks like it’s full of weeds: dandelions, clover and the like. To my son, it’s a field of beautiful flowers that he picks for me as soon as they pop up in spring until the last days of fall.
2. When he is excited, he jumps so high and flaps so hard that I think he’s going to break something one day. How many times can you say you were that excited? Over a TV commercial? Or breakfast? Or popcorn popping? Or a red crayon?
3. How many times do you say, “This is the best day ever!” after a trip to Wendy’s or McDonalds? He says it almost every time we go there.
4. When is the last time you flapped yourself right out of your chair at the movies or stood up, jumped up and down (while flapping) and clapped because the movie was that fantastic? He did last week.
5. Can you repeat every word of every episode of your favorite TV show? My son can. And movies. It’s pretty cool. You can do that, you say? Can you mimic every sound and voice? He sounds just like Merida in “Brave” or Wall-E. I’m totally jealous.
6. He can draw scenes from any show he loves, too. Intricate scenes. He pauses the video and copies it with the detail of a master artist but in pencil and crayon. He even taught himself cursive from an episode of “Gravity Falls.” I painstakingly learned cursive from Sister Carmen in second grade.
7. He can smell chocolate on my breath from three feet away because he has super smell, one of his super powers. No joke. I can’t sneak anything past this kid in the house and I love it. I now have a partner in crime.
8. Most importantly, he doesn’t initiate conversation unless he means it. Really means it. So when he voluntarily says, “Mom, I love you!” he means it from the bottom of his little heart. He feels it with every fiber of his being every time he says it. They’re the most beautiful words I can hear. It took years to hear it, and I cherish it every time he says it. He also says it when he kisses my shoulder, or shares his art or turns on my favorite Christmas movie to watch together (even if he falls asleep every time we watch it). Each time he does these things, it means he loves me, he trusts me and I am his “#1 favorite person in the whole world.”
The Mighty is asking the following: Create a list-style story of your choice in regards to disability, disease or illness. It can be lighthearted and funny or more serious — whatever inspires you. Be sure to include at least one intro paragraph for your list. If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to [email protected] Please include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio. Check out our Share Your Story page for more about our submission guidelines.