Posts
I'm trying to wrap my head around all of the social media aspects of getting my name out there (twitter, google+, linkedin, facebook, etc).
I have a message and a voice. A voice and a heart that wants to reach out to every parent and tell them they are not alone. It's okay to feel angry, sad, glad; just feel.
My hands long to reach out and touch, hold, protect each and every life affected with Autism and Autism Spectrum Disorder.
I think/look back with the eyes and knowledge I have now and see so much more. For example, how well he was doing and how he gradually started to fade. I get angry at what has been done to my child. Damn vaccines.....that another story for another time.
Other times when I look back; I think, wow, I still have so much to think about, work on, worry about. (Adaptive Behaviors - oy!) I get freaked out. Yet, I'm grateful for those times as well. It gives me perspective for what Cary has accomplished. He has worked his little butt off. I'm so darn proud of that kid. BUT, I am his mom. I know what still lies ahead, what needs to be done. Puberty is just around the corner and it scares the hell out of me. Talk about starting over....Dios Santo!
For now, I will enjoy the moment. The light in his eyes; the attention he pays now, the fact that the fog is begining to lift. He is engaged and gets more and more cogniscent every day.
The best way to wrap up this entry is to post "Welcome to Holland." It's a poem that every special needs parent needs to read. Funny and comforting. :)
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by
Emily Perl Kingsley.
Emily Perl Kingsley.
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland
