One thing about parenting an Autistic person that no one tells you about is all the holidays you will miss. I never had my son wake up at the crack of dawn thrilled to open his Christmas gifts. Or hear the crinkle of cellophane as the Easter Bunny creeps into his room with a massive basket. It's not that we didn't do lavish gifts that an only child experiences. It's that he didn't notice and didn't care that much about it.
My sweet boy.
I knew something was "different" about him even at this age.
When he was little, Daddy took over the job of making him do my card and a gift for Mother's Day. But now that he's 32 that's gone with the wind. Don't get me wrong. My husband still treats me like a QUEEN every day and especially on Mother's Day. Because he knows that's something I'll never get from our son. Not for a single day. Not my birthday, not Mother's Day. My mother also always gets me a Mother's Day gift because she knows I'm a good mom and that my son won't do anything to mark the day.
He still is this brave.
I am proud of him every day.
Well... almost every day.
There will be no "taken out to lunch" by my son. No flowers. No card. Maybe he'll remember and I'll get a text saying "Happy Mother's Day." But that's if I'm lucky.
My sweet mom and amazing husband do their best to fill in the gap, but it's still a loss that I feel every year. It's one of the glaring moments that shine a light on the challenges of being Autistic. I honestly feel worse for him than I do myself. He's missing out. Missing out on the closeness that other's take for granted. It's just him. Alone. In his own world.
When he was little I once told him that I constantly feel like I'm holding onto a rope that's tied around his waist and I'm pulling him back to the "real world" for fear that if I let go he will completely slip into his own dimension in his head. He agreed that that's exactly what it felt like for him too.
Monterey is still his favorite place.
We need to plan a trip and go soon.
His novels actually explore that theme very well.
But again, it's all about him.
You share a life when you have a child. Not to share that life, but to still have them physically there is both odd and upsetting. I do a good job of trying to always see things through his eyes. But once in a while that is hard to do. Like on special holidays.
Now that he's an adult I never expect him to participate in family events. I let him know what we're doing and make the offer. But usually it's too crowded, loud and busy for him. Even with headphones and his laptop with him. I get it. Again, from his point of view. But as a mother, of course I would love to have my son there. I'm proud of him. He's an amazing person. I wish more people knew just how amazing he is.
But I'm the one holding the rope. In reality it's always been just him and me. And I'm sure it will be that way until the day I'm no longer here.
