Wednesday, April 6, 2011

The Seven Year Tears

Today, for the first time in seven years I cried talking about the day of my son's diagnosis.  Was I caught in a fragile, frail moment?  No, not really.  Had it been a long hard day.   No, I am in hospital and the toughest thing to face (apart from your therapy) are your menu choices.  No, today I was on leave for the morning visiting a dear life long friend.

We had covered pretty much most issues affecting my depression.  I think it was just the right time to cry.  I only had a couple of tears.  My friend was concerned we were tackling taboo topics.  (loving alliteration here guys)  So I did reign it in for her benefit.  I was with a friend I had known since I was 10.  Someone, I have always admired, had tonnes of fun with and who I looked up to as my older sister.  Like a well worn pair of jeans the fit was right.  So the fit was right, the time was right and I could release that grief.

I am hoping to talk further about this with my Doctor so I can fully explore my grief and fully deal with it.  Maybe this will be step 3 in my letting go plan.  Maybe it is time to let go of Russia or was it the USSR back in WWII.  My modern history is a bit rusty so can't quite remember.  Feel free to correct me.  Constructive criticism is always welcome.

This picture was taken about six months prior to Clay's diagnosis of autism.  Why did we not see it.  Look at those dark circles under his eyes.  He is not looking at the camera despite much cajoling and calling out his name.  To us he was so perfect and still is.   But to the world he is disabled.

April is autism awareness month and each day I try to put a status up on facebook that is either about Clay or just basic facts about autism.  Today I wrote:  My son Clay is 9. At 2 he could not eat solids. At 3 he could not say Mummy. At 4 he was not toilet trained. At 5 he said a 7 word sentence. At 6 he rode a bike without training wheels on the 1st go. At 7 he could direct us to places he had only been to once and sometimes years earlier. At 8 he developed a terror for storms. At 9 he can draw the map of Australia from memory. Clay is autistic & amazing.

The worst thing we will ever do for our son is hold him back and under estimate his potential.  I find myself as an overprotective Mother very guilty of this.  Clay is amazing.  He has amazing strengths and talents.  He constantly surpasses all expectations and performs miracles almost daily.  Not healing the masses kind, just the Clay kind.

This is a picture of one of thousands of road maps my amazing boy draws.   You can bet this place exists somewhere.  He is my walking talking compass.

This is a recent pic of my amazing perfect autistic son.  He is unique in every essence and totally travels to the beat of his own drum.

Keep going baby, keep doing what you do.  You are my hero.

1 comment:

  1. Your little boy is beautiful, I know the joys and the difficulties of having a child with special needs, your words are beautiful and love for your little man is so apparent xxx