That's the way my good friend greets newcomers to our Autism Support Group.
I didn't really know much about Autism until our son was diagnosed with it four years ago. Since then, we've ridden the dizzying ups and downs of Autism with Nick. It can be exhausting. In the whole Roller Coaster scheme of things, Nick is at a low point. It came out of the blue, as it always does, after we had been lulled into complacency by too many weeks of "easy."
Autism steals our children from us much the same way adolescence sweeps away it's victims . . . only autism does it in a much grander fashion. The same little boy that teachers, friends and neighbors rave over locked me out of the house this morning. He screamed and cried and kicked and screamed some more. He threw off his backpack and emptied it's contents into the muddy flower bed. As I was wiping the dirt from his homework I didn't know if I wanted to start hitting things or sit down among the tulip bulbs and cry.
Many well meaning people have told me that "I must be someone special to have a son like Nick sent to me." Well I'm not. I'm just like the next mom, doing the best with what I've got. Frankly, I haven't got a lot. Parenting skills I have acquired over the past 12 years vanish instantly in the face of conflict. I stand like a fool wondering what my next move will be, my inadequesies pleased with their upper hand.
Nick sat in the school hallway for 30 minutes, refusing to join his peers. I hid from view, stationing myself on a bench around the corner. My pajama clad four year old sat next to me clutching her "fuzzy." I averted my gaze from passing parents and teachers, embarrassed by my circumstances.
As I was driving away I saw another friend from the support group walking down the sidewalk. I rolled down my window and yelled "Autism Stinks!" but I didn't say stinks.
"O.K." she replied,
and we each continued on our way.
*upon returning home after errands this afternoon I found a package on the doorstep.
The front of the card: With Deepest Sympathy
The inside: Autism does "stink"!! So if Autism is screaming or crying at you here's something to stick into it. Hope it goes better soon. Julie.
Inside the package? Suckers.
That's why it's called a support group
4 comments:
Whenever I read your posts about autism, I always want to say something comforting or encouraging; but seriously, I have zero qualifications to be offering anything like that. I can tell you though, that just a mom, doing the best they can makes a difference that they'll never know. And thanks for sharing. Someone needs to educate the rest of us. *hugs*
I don't know why but I like that she just said O.K.
It's nice to have people that just understand.
I am sorry that this morning was a stinker.
You can call me and I will sit in the hall with you if it happens again.
Remember how you asked me on Monday how I get through my day and everything I am going through? Well, I could ask you the same question. It is all relative. You amaze me with your strength. That was very kind of Julie, and I am SURE you have been there for her and her boys when they have needed your support. You know I love you and am here for you WHENEVER you need me.
sniff, sniff. Come closer to the screen. A little closer. Now hug the screen. It's a hug from me. I love you. You are strong enough for this challenge. You have power beyond yourself. You're getting better all the time. I love you.
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