📘 Hi World! I’m Dad: How Fathers Can Journey From Autism Awareness To Acceptance To Appreciation
James Guttman’s new book is here!
It is now available for pre-order! Also Available in Audiobook!
👉 Click here to get it on Amazon

People have too many words. They use them constantly and, in many cases, use them for purposes we wish they wouldn’t.

They can be hurtful or confusing. You can find yourself blamed for things you never did in a word salad of nonsense. It takes nothing to have someone talk you into a circle so tightly that, by the end of a three-hour phone call, you don’t even remember what you talked about.

The most egregious misuse of the spoken word comes when people tell you things that you should be observing, not hearing. They say actions speak the loudest, so the real light shines through.

There’s nothing stranger or more common than hearing someone tell you that they’re the hardest working person you’ll ever meet…as you watch them hardly working. Uncaring people tell you how caring they are. You listen. You nod. You observe. You get it.

The worst of all is love. Of every emotion, it seems to be the one we wrap the most sentences around.

As a kid, I was taught that love was a feeling. You feel it and, when someone loves you, you know it. It’s the basis for Hallmark cards and holidays. You don’t say love. You feel love.

If someone is shouting “I love you” at the top of their lungs while doing actions that prove otherwise, it can feel like a mental game. You wonder if you’re noticing the inaccurate things or feeling the wrong response. How can that be?

It doesn’t take much to sense it either. Perhaps it’s the way they look at you, talk to you, or simply act when you’re around. Sometimes it’s a million things weighing down at once. Sometimes it’s the absence of anything at all. You just know.

Maybe I was too frightened when my son was first diagnosed with autism to realize all of this. I wish I could go back in time and make the younger version of me read that opening. He needs to.

Why? Because my younger self was worried that my non-verbal son wouldn’t love me. If he did, I was then worried I would never know.

Now, years later and on the other side of many life lessons, I am more sure of Lucas’s love for me than anyone else on this planet.

The reason isn’t because he tells me or signs it. Sure, I taught him a self-hug means “love.” When he does it – usually prompted – it always pulls a smile from my face.

Signs are like words, though. He can sign anything. It’s not what he says. It’s what he does.

When my son sees me, he lights up. I know it’s an overused phrase and, for other people, maybe it is. Lucas, however, does just that. It’s like a human Christmas Tree of joy.

Waiting at the open school bus door on a Wednesday, after not seeing him for day, I’ll call out his name. Usually, he’s lying in his seat or fussing about getting up. Then he’ll hear me.

Lucas…what are you doing in there, buddy. Let’s go.

I’ll see his face peer up from behind the seat and the matron will tell him.

There you go. Look! It’s Daddy.

With that, my son jumps to his feet, his eyes open incredibly wide, and with a smile from ear to ear, he descends the five steps to my open arms. He hugs me and, some weeks, he doesn’t let go for a minute or two. We stand in the driveway hugging. It’s insanely adorable.

That’s love. If I know nothing else in this world, I know that.

He doesn’t say anything at all, and he doesn’t have to. The emotion he’s expressing is the strongest one anyone can feel. Showing it isn’t a matter of long texts, empty promises, or false claims. Showing it is lighting up. Showing it is showing up. Showing it is what my son does.

I take millions of photos of my kids and sometimes I’ll see one and notice how he’s looking at me. It’s the way I look at him. It’s an unspoken response to all the times I’ve said “I love you” to him. In a case like this, a picture truly is worth a thousand words.

Writing this out today isn’t some “no duh” type of post. This isn’t an example of something I should have known then, but didn’t. There are many posts from the early days of this blog about things that worried me, but I had a feeling we’d figure out.

Love? Not so much. Knowing he loves me more than I know anyone else loves me? Not a chance.

Yet, here we are. We’re happy and we’re a family. His verbal sister, just like Lucas, loves me without needing to say it constantly, either. We just know. Actions speak louder than words.

Still, that worry was real back then. Who knew the result would be the exact opposite of my fears? I never imagined a person who could express his feelings so perfectly without a single word would be a part of that world.

And best of all, I know he loves me.