Our days start early. On weekends and weekdays alike, my son Lucas is up before the roosters.

Most mornings, I “redirect” him back to bed. This usually includes firmly saying “back to bed” while he glares at me, whines, and bangs against the gate to his room. On good days, he’ll return for ten minutes before jumping up and doing it again.

I often wonder who he’s expecting to come give him his way. I’m the only one here, kid. There isn’t a parade of people hiding in the closet to give him the iPad and snacks at 4 in the morning. Yet, he’s back and banging on the gate almost immediately.

By the time we finally get up, I’m tired and annoyed. I grumble to myself as grumbling dads do and, as I enter his room, suddenly my fan club is back in session.

Lucas is overjoyed to see me. Even though he disturbed my sleep, pushed to get his way, and kind of wrecked my morning mood, he doesn’t care. All of that is washed away. It’s a new morning and Dad’s here.

It's About Who My Non-Verbal Son Is, Not What He Achieves

With that, he’ll run over and wrap his arms around my neck. His mouth slightly open, he gives me a series of headbutt-like kisses on the cheek that feel like someone is slapping me with a saggy wet washcloth. He hangs on me and laughs like it’s the best moment of his life. This is pretty much our morning ritual.

So what do I do in this situation? As mentioned, I’m tired, annoyed, and dying to just get the morning going already. Yet, my non-verbal little guy wants to start the day with a loving embrace that transcends words. Couple that with his soggy face and sleeve, that he has been chewing on all night, both firmly against my head, and it makes for an embrace that most people might push off.

I don’t. I never do.

And that’s why he’s so loving today.

I think this is a missing point that I regularly brush over when talking about my son’s sweet nature. All of this love and kindness he exhibits towards me might never happen if I treated it the way most people would treat persistent amiration at inconvenient times.

Don’t get me wrong, I love his hugs but there are definite times that I want to duck away from a slobbered sleeve. Kisses while typing on my computer or trying to do housework all feel out of place.

But Lucas is Lucas. He knows the world as I show him. When he steals food from a person’s plate, I make him give it back. Even if that person insists that “it’s OK” or “he can have it”, the answer is no. Lucas learns how to behave by observing the reactions to his behavior.

Rethinking Non-Verbal A Look into Life with My Son

I’ve found that with my son, the key is consistency. If I want to encourage him to be loving, I allow him to be loving in nearly every instance that he initiates it. Hugs, kisses, and pats on the back are always welcomed and returned…even when I’m focused on a non-loving situation.

Maybe I’m cleaning up a mess he made or something he broke. Perhaps I’m tired or simply not feeling it that day. No matter the issue, there are plenty of times that I would rather just wallow in my own misery. Lucas doesn’t let me.

And there’s the twist. By allowing him to express an affectionate gesture whenever he feels it helps me to get out of my own bad moods when they spring up. You have no idea how quickly it can happen.

One of his trademark moves is to come over, as I’m on the floor picking up something or cleaning up a pile of cereal he’s spilled. He will tenderly place his hand below my chin and lift my head up like he’s Daddy Warbucks consoling Little Orphan Annie. When I peer up at him, he has a giant smile, and he leans in to kiss me square in the middle of my face.

lucas kiss

There is literally no way to stay in any mood other than happy in that precise moment. I’ve never had another person give so little care to the situation around us when coming to express this level of caring for me. Simply put, I never feel more loved than I do with Lucas.

It’s all part of our cycle. I encourage him to be a more loving person, and he does the same for me. When he has a meltdown or becomes upset, I don’t return that attitude with my own anxieties and anger. I return it with love. I rub his back or put my arm around him. He knows what he sees and he gives back the love he receives.

Is this all kids with autism? Of course not. This is Lucas. The idea, however, can be applied to all kids with autism. Actually, scratch that. It can apply to all kids in general.

Because love isn’t about perfect timing or convenience. It’s about showing up even when you’re tired, even when you’re frustrated, even when the cereal is spilled, and the gate’s been rattled a hundred times before sunrise. Lucas shows up for me every day with his hugs, his kisses, and his unfiltered affection. The least I can do is show up for him, soggy sleeves and all.

And that’s the thing—I thought I was teaching him how to love, but really, he’s been teaching me all along.