I was born and raised in the 80s. It was a time of big hair, mix tapes, the Walkman and neon colors. We didn’t hear about autism or inclusion back then. In the small rural high school that I attended, individuals with different or special needs were grouped together in a separate classroom. Our exposure was limited, no one taught us about accepting and celebrating differences. Throughout history and even today, many attitudes still exist that fear those that are considered different.
My experience with individuals with special needs was minimal until my son was born in 2015. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, with big blue eyes and a full head of hair. Within the first year of his life, we noticed some concerning behavior and a major regression in language. My son was diagnosed on the autism spectrum when he was 21 months old. Today he is 6 years old, non-verbal and has some comorbid conditions like seizures and gastrointestinal challenges.
There is so much emphasis on fitting in and being accepted, the pressure to be like everyone else overshadows the underlying true beauty of being different.
My son sees the simplicity and beauty in everything. He loves the feel of the wind against his face, how he can make his shadow dance in the sunlight, and gentle squeezes when holding hands. He loves the texture of rocks, to run his fingers along the wall as he walks and to twirl with excitement when he realizes it’s the weekend.
He is all love. While he understands body language and words of others, he doesn’t acknowledge unkind words, judgements or when someone is mean to him. His response to such acts is to smile. One of the most beautiful things is that he only knows love. Sometimes I wonder in awe what the world would be like if we all only knew love, if we never allowed negativity and toxicity to taint our happiness, self-worth, or our relationships with others.
I’m not quite sure how he does it, but he lives every day with a grateful heart. He appreciates all life has to offer him, and that offering is enough for him, regardless of the opportunities life has offered to others. He expresses his gratitude with squeals of delight, eyes as wide as saucers, and a smile that is so bright it puts the sun to shame. This boy of mine was dealt so many challenges, yet he finds the joy in every single day. Despite being non-verbal, he uses an iPad with special software to communicate. His specialty is not asking for his own wants and needs but instead trying to make others smile.
When you spend time with someone who is different than you, it creates an insatiable thirst, a curiosity about how they see the world and how that compares to your view.
My autistic son likes to enhance authenticity by stealing quiet moments like holding your hand and sharing space. He makes everyone feel seen not with his eyes but with his heart. He is energized by that connection forged between his heart and yours. When you spend time with him and you bask in the quiet moments of love, being present and feeling that unspoken connection, renewed optimisms creeps in and you always want more. It revitalizes you so you can go out into the world and do better.
He paints the world with a palette of rich, vibrant colors.
I know that sometimes people feel sorry for me because my son is autistic. But they have no idea how much I have won. I’m so fortunate to have moments of so much love, connection, and quiet moments daily that so many others may wish for. These moments that I get to experience so often, are the reasons that so many others take vacations to escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, to recharge and reunite with more meaningful connections.
For most people, parenting is preparing to send your children out into the world so they can pursue dreams and be successful and happy. I’m not certain what the future will look like for us. I’m focusing on raising my autistic son to be independent, to be able to take care of himself as much as possible so he can one day exist in a world without me. I will probably never retire as a mother; my son has made me a forever one.
When others are facing the challenge of sending their son/daughter off to university or college, I will probably be holding my son’s hand helping him to navigate a busy parking lot and assisting him to shave at the bathroom sink. When he is an adult, we will probably watch kids shows and sing nursery songs, do all the things that he loves.
A life lived differently, is not a life less lived. There is no formula for a life well-lived. But I think my son is on to something with how he lives each day with love, gratitude, and purpose. He is not like anyone else. He uses his ability to find and create beauty, shine it onto others and set them out into the world better and brighter than they were before they met him.
Different isn’t just beautiful, in my world it is everything!
Stalen's Way 