We may struggle to help our children, but we never struggle to love them
I knew nothing about autism and nothing about being non-verbal. Hell, I knew nothing about having a son.
Without them, I would wallow in my own mind during times when my own mind is the most dangerous place to wallow in.
What came next could have destroyed me, if I let it.
It’s not about words. It’s about communicating.
No blankies in sight. That’s when he goes on the hunt like Elmer Fudd at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
Your kid is watching. You can’t scream. You can’t yell. You can’t say all the bad things you’re dying to say.
I never know what fatherhood surprises are lurking around the corner.
If there was any chance that we could have the relationship that I envisioned rather than the one I feared, I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen.
My son isn’t a doctor. He’s doesn’t line up shoes or toys. He doesn’t scream when hugged. He doesn’t count cards, toothpicks, or, well, anything. He’s none of those things