August 13, 2023
My Son, You Matter
A letter to my son Cooper:
My son, you matter.
I feel the need to say that today. Loudly. To all of these people who read about you. Who love you and want to learn about you.
Not to remind myself. Or you. Because I know you are amazing. I know that you work harder than anyone I know to do the things that most people take for granted.
In the beginning, when you were diagnosed with autism, I was told all the things you would never do. The list was long.
It took me years to learn that the list didn’t matter. And that you are on your own timeline. You are what matters.
You are a person. A human. A boy. You will be a man someday. And you matter. Just as you are.
I’m saying you matter because sometimes people get off track.
People who make decisions regarding your life based on data. They forget that you are a child first.
To them you are a file full of paper. Check marks compiled into data. A spreadsheet. Then a graph. It goes up and down.
I’ve seen it. It’s in my drawer.
You are ranked. They won’t admit that, but you are.
I always say your autism is woven through you. There is no separating it out. It’s your color kid. It’s where the light hits. It’s you.
On paper it’s not colorful. It’s black and white. It’s level three severe. There are a whole lot more words in there too.
Stacked up tall. Mommy doesn’t like to read them. They are on a piece of paper in her drawer.
I don’t need those words to know you.
I don’t say them much anymore. Mostly because people on the internet tell me there is no severe autism. And I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m too tired to fight. I just want to help you have your best life. You are Cooper.
I want you to be happy.
A few months ago, a team of folks told us that you were too challenging. When they spoke of you, it was hard for me to picture your face. The words they used. The things they said. The way they spoke about you.
It was void of your light. I didn’t know the boy they were talking about.
Well kiddo. We are at a crossroads. I’m pretty sure you aren’t changing. This is you. This is me. We are a lot. And we aren’t black and white. We are the bright reds and oranges on fall leaves and the blue and teals in the ocean. And we ain’t always easy. This I know.
But I will never dull that color kid.
And you matter. Please know that. The words don’t matter. The data. The numbers. The graph. It doesn’t matter.
Because you are Cooper. A person. A boy. A human. You are nothing less. And I will not reduce you.
And good golly sweet boy I will fight for you to be seen. And a place in this world.
Whenever we take a photo, you always hold onto your brother Sawyer. And he holds onto you. We don’t ask either of you to do this. You just do. It’s one of my glimmers of light.
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.
