I still understood next to nothing about Autism and even less about what it would be like to have a non-verbal child.
Glitter, rainbows, and the pure, unadulterated chaos of a Scandinavian Death Metal mosh pit.
The hour would end, the door would close, and we would all be alone together again.
As the parent to a child with Autism, it pulls me back to the early days of his life…
The thing is, I get it. I get why he wants to run around in the middle of the night…
That’s when being really cool became something I talk about in the past tense.
My parenthood is neither painful nor does it require relief. When I say that I accept my son as he is, I’m not trying to fool myself and others.
When he was two, I could never imagine five. When he was five, I could never imagine seven.
It’s not about speech, spectrums, or understanding. It’s about who we are as people.
I had done nothing wrong, but at the time, their confused glances sure made me feel that way.