The Fear of Wandering

Wilson farm

Last night, I saw my sweet boy for the first time as a grown young man.

My dream was so real.

Until now, I really hadn’t been able to picture him outside of toddlerhood. 

I kind of blame that on autism. Maybe it’s the language barrier between us, or the discomfort of not knowing exactly what his future looks like. 

For some reason I just couldn’t picture him, or didn’t allow myself to try.

He was big, taller than me. Happy and gentle. And strong.

He clung tightly to my arm as we walked through a busy hotel lobby, I could tell the noise and new space made him uneasy.

I was so proud of him. He had grown so much and made progress beyond my expectations. 

As a family, we were enjoying our time outside at the hotel pool when the all-too-familiar panic set in.

I lost him.

I frantically ran through the busy hotel, the pool, the restaurants, and lobby searching and asking strangers if they had seen him.

The panic really set in when I realized that no one seemed to meet me at my level of concern. 

It wasn’t a missing child, after all. I was looking for a grown man. 

A teen annoyed with his mom, or a young man running an errand, a miscommunication, they probably thought.

But my young man was still a boy, really, and he will not find his way back, and certain lights and sounds literally cause him pain, and he takes almost everything literally and he could walk right into traffic…but how do you explain all of that when you are hysterical?

This dream topped all the heart-pounding ones of the past: the missed college exams, waitressing in the weeds, falling. 

I’ve had a pit in my stomach all day about it. It was just a dream, but one that very easily could be our reality.

Wandering (or eloping) is a concern that parents of children with autism deal with long after the toddler years.

That fear may never go away.  And that’s ok.

We will continue riding the waves of autism with our sweet boy. The highs, the progress, remind us to remain hopeful.  The regressions keep us resilient.

They keep us fighting for better.

I am so thankful for the recent progress we’ve seen in our son. 

Even though this dream ended with a large dose of our autism reality, it gave me the gift of a little glimpse of who he can become. And I am more excited than ever.

Written by, Lauren Emmett

You can follow Lauren and Wilson’s journey at Wilson’s Climb or on Facebook at facebook.com/wilsonsclimb  Lauren started a blog to keep everyone updated on her son’s progress and with the dream that it can be one small piece in helping to spread autism awareness around the world.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.

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Kate Swenson

Kate Swenson lives in Minnesota with her husband Jamie, and four children, Cooper, Sawyer, Harbor and Wynnie. Kate launched Finding Cooper's Voice from her couch while her now 11-year-old son Cooper was being diagnosed with autism. Back then it was a place to write. Today it is a living, thriving community of people who want to not only advocate for autism, but also make the world a better place for individuals with disabilities and their families. Her first book, Forever Boy, will be released, April 5, 2022.

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