It’s easy for me to write about the positive points of my non-verbal son with autism. Since the day I started, the stories may have gone up and down in terms of emotion and worry. The one constant, though, is my appreciation for him as a human being.

Lucas may have challenges, but he also has amazing qualities that people might not know. While strangers at a supermarket will usually only observe him during his most difficult moments, I get to see him all the time. I’m there for his entire journey.

Telling people what makes him a good person is simple. His personality is so unique and rooted in realism that I can’t help but be proud. My son knows who he is, what he likes, and what he wants to do. He doesn’t hide those feelings from others and wears his heart on his sleeve. There’s no guessing with Lucas. If he likes you, you know know it. If he doesn’t, you know that too. He doesn’t smile to your face and then roll his eyes behind your back. He’s good people. He’s real people.

Not all parents have kids like him and I recognize how lucky I am to have a son like him. For all his lack of words or life skill challenges, he has traits that are truly wonderful. No one is kinder and more gentle than my son. I see it every day.

When he was little, I never dreamed I would be able to say these things. I feared a lifetime of worry where this person would be under my care, yet never even acknowledge my presence. He wouldn’t look up when I’d enter the room or express any sort of reaction to seeing me after an absence. It felt like he would never accept the people around him as anything more than interactive furniture and it scared the hell out of me.

The worst speech teacher on the planet pointed that out to us during her weekly visits right around his diagnosis. I returned home as he was playing in the living room and she remarked how he “didn’t even look up. It’s as if you’re not even there!” God, I couldn’t stand that woman. I’m glad I never put much weight on her words. People change. Lucas did.

This is who my Lucas is. In my mind, anyone who knows the best parts of him can’t help but love him.

Having a non-verbal son taught me one important lesson about communication. You don’t say “hi” to someone just to get a “hello” back. You don’t give love just because it might be returned to you. You don’t care about a person just so they will recognize your effort.

If you love someone, you just do it. It’s not about you. It’s about them.

That’s how I operated when he was small and I didn’t even make a conscious effort to do so. I knew that my love might neve be reciprocated and, while I feared that every day, I accepted that fact. I knew that he deserved his father’s love so I gave it. There was nothing about his little person that made him not deserve it.

Still, some people will be some people. That’s life and that’s the world we live in. Not everyone will get him.

It’s a statement about other people, not Lucas. Those who aren’t able to see the stunning forest for some of his more challenging trees will never know what they’re missing. They’ll never get him or understand what makes a person special.

That makes it all the more special to know him. It’s like having a diamond that some people can never see, even when they’re looking right at it.

I love my son. I want you to love him too. That’s why I share his stories with everyone. I also accept that some people might send prayers when they hear a funny family moment. I get it. I don’t fault them.

However, just as much as they don’t get Lucas, I don’t get them either.