On this day, in this room, for this concert, my main goal was to make sure we stayed until the finish.
They’re not here to make me feel better. They’re here to help my son.
I may have helped, but his successes were about him doing it, not me teaching him.
In the end, I’m proud to say, no tables were flipped.
It’s why my stomach gets knots. It’s why I come running.
Just because I don’t know why he reacts a certain way to something, that doesn’t mean I can’t support him during it.
I never asked her to help “cure” my son’s Autism.
I had to force myself to see the worst of him, even though I usually can only see the best.
When you truly accept anything as a possibility then everything is perfect.
Autism doesn’t make my son the best boy in the world. The fact that he’s mine makes him the best boy in the world.