Before We Knew Autism

There was a time before we knew it was autism.

I call it the in between space. And often say that the not knowing was harder than knowing. We lived in that place for three short years. A blip really in his fifteen years.

I knew something was different with my sweet boy. Possibly even from the second he was born. But I hoped. And I prayed that I was wrong.

And these two, they were my benchmarks.

My bestfriend’s kids.

I grew up with their moms. 35 plus years we’ve been friends.

Our babies will do the same.

For a fleeting second, back then, I felt so many emotions when my son’s differences shined through.

Love for them. Worry for mine. Fear. Failure. Even jealousy at times. They got the gift of growing up typically. Mine took a different path. Away from his peers.

Time has a way of healing. Of blurring the sharp edges of what is different between.

Today, mine threw rocks into the lake. And a ride on a firetruck from Grandpa Tom. While the other two supervised and helped with a gaggle of kids.

They are growing up. One will start driver’s ed soon. The other loving football. I felt a sting for a brief second. Like a papercut. Reminding me what could have been.

Then watching these two attempting to give my boy a boost. The smiles. The determination. Three kids being silly.

They listened to him. They showed patience and kindness.

Goodness they are good kids.

I sometimes say, about autism, I don’t know how we got here. Right here, to this very moment.

But today, I remembered it all. Every moment. And thanked God for my friends. I could never do this alone.