Every Bride Needs Something Blue

Tales Of An Educated Debutante

on life, loss and the joy that rules the day.


 
 
 
 
 




 
The future is far away and scary, but today is lovely.

Adrian H. Wood, PhD


Thomas On Autism

Thomas On Autism

Sunday, April 16, 2017 Adrian Wood Comments (0)

I think he knows something we don't. Ahhh, how I love a statement like this. My oldest reflecting on my youngest, biggest brother to smallest brother, typically developing boy to extra special developing boy. He's so very right and is the oldest of the three siblings of Amos that have led the way in seeking joy. They see their brother as himself, a person that is unique and amazing, and I don't read regret in their honest eyes. They make me aware that my own eyes and voice sometimes reflect less than their perfect acceptance and so, I swallow the feelings, shed a tear and smile again.

I think he knows something we don't. I've thought about this quite a bit over the last few weeks. It was just a snippet of the conversation my oldest son and I had following the diagnosis of autism. His thoughts and feelings spilled onto the safe slate between us and his words contradicted each other, the surest sign of love, at least for me. There have been moments of hurting along the way for this tender hearted son of mine. It was he who cried when he found out Amos would be in a special preschool class at the public school. What this meant he wasn't even sure, just over a year ago, but it fell off the radar just far enough to be worrisome. I understood as the truth bit at my throat and smarted my eyes when I shared that news last year. His tears mirrored the unusual pitch in my voice, careful but failing to hide my own heartsick self.

I think he knows something we don't. A three and a half year old with extra special needs and there's no doubt he's not exceptional. Aren't all children amazing in some way? Those who walk a different path better the earth, make the sky bluer, the clouds fuller, the sun warmer and the sea saltier. Amos is ours, yet he is a stranger in this world and somehow that knowledge ensures that the gift of him escapes none of us, not one. We love and adore him and sometimes, we weep over what could have been, but then we remember to smile over what is. It's not easy, but nothing of great value has ever come easily his father says and like my oldest son, I long to know what Amos knows too.

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