Little Big Things

The moments that happen that are so huge, yet so subtle, that sometimes I don’t realize they happened until hours later.

Like this morning. At 3 am. When I was awake with a toddler who refuses to develop a love for sleep like her mama.

My son Cooper is 11 years old. A tween. A soon to be sixth grader. He loves bullet trains, his grandparents, and episodes of Family Feud. He wants to go on an airplane. And he is autistic and nonspeaking.

The first time I heard the word autism I was in a meeting and the lady in the front of the room was talking about a disorder. I heard lack of eye contact. And refusal to play. She said a lot of things. All felt heavy.

I’ve learned over the last 11 years that autism cannot be summed up in a 30 minute presentation with checklists and bullet points.

It’s more. It’s complicated. Confusing. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Mysterious. It’s a sum of the parts. But never just one thing.

Last night, after therapeutic horseback riding, a program that allows my son to ride a horse, and flap his hands and use sign language to tell his horse to ‘walk on,’ something happened.

He told me thank you.

“Thank you for helping me.”

And, “I love you.”

Not with words though.

He touched my arm in the parking lot. Then my face. Which means…listen up mom. I’m going to show you something really important.

He smiled. Curiously. And pressed his finger to the screen of his iPad.

Dora’s voice filled the car.

‘Thank you for helping me! I love you!’

She was saying it to Boots, her monkey.

And Cooper was saying it to me, his mom.

He has never thanked me like that before. It was personal. It was real.

He played it a few more times just to make sure I heard.

Then giggled.

I walk along with his horse while the other parents sit and watch. I hold his hand. I touch his chest reminding him to breathe. We count. And look at airplanes. And giggle when the horse poops.

See being someone’s person is a lot sometimes. Belonging to them.

But he saw that. For the first time. And he thanked me for helping him.

Little big things.

And that is pretty amazing if you think about it.

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. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and join our supporter page, Coop’s Troops, for an amazing community full of support and understanding.