Your Boys Give Me Hope

Ryan, Nick, Cam.  A few years ago.  Windy beach day.

Last Friday, I was shocked.  I was leaving church when an elderly lady stopped me to ask a question.  "I hear your boys have a touch of Aspergers. How are you working with that? "

Several thoughts went through my head at once, yet I wanted to answer this woman concisely but thoroughly.  I must have hesitated too long.  She continued, "My grandson has been diagnosed with autism."

Once she said that, I answered, "My boys have autism.  299.0.  No aspergers.  No high functioning autism.  Full blown autism."

Her face reflected astonishment.  "I know your boys.  They are so polite, and they talk to me."

Now it was my turn to be stunned.  I am always surprised when someone outside the family says that my boys "talk" with him or her.  How "talk" is defined by each person varies, but the social interaction of any sort is remarkable.  That makes me smile.  My boys are conversing to some level--independently.

Wow!

We continued our discussion briefly.  I outlined the therapies that have taken place in the last ten years.  I described the sensitivities and issues my boys faced back then, like non-communication and intolerance to transitions.  I mentioned the prescribed meds and the switch to a clean diet.

At the end of our five minute conversation, this woman's face showed some sign of relief.  "Your boys give me hope for my grandson."

That just made my day.  I was almost in tears.  I remember being in her shoes, hearing the diagnosis of my boys.  I know the long road that lays ahead of this boy and his family.  I am glad that his grandma can tell his mom that she knows some boys who are progressing well, despite autism.  Or better yet, with autism.