Good Lord, Really??

Really?  I look at the sky as I sigh.  This time I say it aloud, "Really?"

Yes, I'm asking the Good Lord if this is what he wants me to face.  Like I can really do this.  I am not trained in this.  I don't know what I am doing.  No map.  No guide.  No manual.

"This" in the last paragraph could be anything.  It could be autism, government agencies, doctors, etc.  So many aspects of autism and teenagers emerge, and I have no idea where to even begin.

I don't like guessing.  I'd rather know what needs to be done and just do it. I like to see end results.  I also don't mind if someone else sees the finished product and gives me a "thumbs up".  I will listen to the "thumbs down", but I prefer the former option.

With autism, there is no finish line.  Tis always a work in progress.  And these are boys, actually, young men now.  Not some project or task.  There are no days off.  Always going.  Always something.

I've told some friends that I really think God has mixed me up with someone who can handle this life I lead.  I'm just waiting for this person to show up.  Anyways, my friends and I laugh.  I think we all can feel that way.  Some aspects of life are simply bigger than we are, and we don't have all the answers.

We just keep pluggin' along.  And I ask the Good Lord for guidance.

photo credit:  Phillip F Chavez, PhD  http://masculinespirituality.com/site/

Amazed and Thankful

Both Ryan and Nick went to the Homecoming Dance, and they both had fun. I am amazed that they wanted to go. I am thankful that they could go together with friends. They are still quite shy and quiet in most circumstances, yet they are courageous enough to keep trying. I wonder how many times they felt like quitting. I have often thought of the kids who walk away because they don't understand my boys. Then I think of my boys and how they felt when left alone.

I can't get into their brains. I have asked how they think or what they think. Quite often, they can't express their thoughts.

I remember when Ryan was four years old, and he couldn't talk. He couldn't say, "I love you." He didn't want to be hugged or touched. The walls in my house had dents from him leaning back to avoid hugs. At that time I had no idea he had sensory issues.

When Nick was two, he could say, "I love you," but it was one word at a time with long pauses between the words. "I"... "love"... "you". He had not progressed at all when he turned three.

Now I see them interacting with peers. Many classmates are patient with Nick and Ryan; many are not. I still can't help but be amazed and encouraged by my own kids--teens with autism--not giving up.

I am very thankful for my heroes.