How They See Him

For some, my son’s Autism brings up feelings about themselves, not about him.

Pouring My Cup Into His

It doesn’t matter how thirsty I am or how recently I got it. My water is his water.

When I have an internal dialogue, I can be pretty brutal.

If you can’t be at peace, at least be a story.

What alternate universe is Sesame Street on that monsters never age or retain knowledge, yet humans do both?

They’re not here to make me feel better. They’re here to help my son.

This isn’t Rocket Scientry.

His death doesn’t feel like part of some lesson. It just feels unfair.

Keeping his iPad away for the entire final day of Spring Break sounded crazy to everyone, including me, but it had to be done.

Fireworks don’t go off for great parental achievements. There are no major awards to be handed out.