I Love You

Yesterday we played cards, smiled, laughed, held hands, smelled hands, read books, colored, chewed gum, shared a snack, took a car ride, hugged. Yesterday, for two hours and change, I forgot everything in the world but you. I love you so much and am unable to help you out of your seemingly sad existence. Some people say you are happier than I imagine, because your mind works on a different plane. I am thankful for a certain understanding you must have with God and nature and yourself, an understanding which keeps you here, keeps you from leaving the world. For this I am thankful. Because I hold out for a time when a miracle happens. That's a day when I know how to really help you, or someone else does, and you know how to be helped. You know how to communicate fully in this lovely time I'm dreaming of. You never bite yourself or bang your head again. You and I discuss everything under the sun. You stop asking for another car ride all the time. I stop crying on the way home from our visits. I take you home with me, to stay. We cook together and fold laundry. We watch corny sitcoms and play Scrabble. We stand in line at the post office and we are peaceful. We are healed.

Look of Love

Caleb had a home visit with his dad over Thanksgiving. In a photo, Caleb sits with his legs crossed and appears relaxed, reading a book in his favorite chair. He looks happy. This makes me smile. Every little thing in life matters—sometimes so much more than the big stuff.

What is your big stuff?

Does it really matter so much?

Try making a glance at a loved one turn into a meaningful gaze. If this is hard—practice.

Our Time

A Poem for Caleb

Tromping through coastal grass and brambles, I overlook flood plain, mineral rights and agricultural exemption. In the spider's dewy web and butterfly's dance, in the cool green/brown air, I search for a trail to walk with you. We will sit on the porch of a wooden house at nighttime. Do you hear the rain on the tin roof? Do you taste the roasted marshmallows of Summer and Fall? It's like you're a child again. Touch the angel's wings at Christmastime. Let the glitter fly. I will see you there. I will hold your hand very long times at a time, after the scheduled meals are gone, the assigned sheets washed crisp, folded, and put away. I will play dominoes with you before the fire. The table is broken now, but we will fix it together. One day we will hammer and sand and paint. Close your eyes. Mama cooks dinner. Smell the bread rising.

Crash

My daughter just sent me a you tube video of a down syndrome girl who became homecoming queen. I usually shy far away from success stories about such. I forced myself to watch and predictably, the tears fell. When will I ever stop believing I've failed, and continue to fail, as Caleb's mother? I do not know the answer to that question. I only know my heart is broken.

Precious Son

My Dear Caleb,
I so enjoyed seeing you on Saturday. Holding your hand, you touching my face, walking in the park. With you it's almost like time stands still. We do the same things we did when you were small only now you dwarf me when we lie next to one another for stories. XXX

The Mustard Seed of Faith

My Dear Caleb,

I can't wait to see you on Sunday. I pray that you are doing well. I pray for your peace, for friends who listen and who love you. I pray for important people in your life, like teachers and helpers who care. I pray for the day that you and I will have a long conversation over a cup of tea. We will laugh and talk about everything under the sun, and then some.

This day is coming, Caleb. I have the mustard seed of faith in my heart and I'm using it to move your mountains. Your tongue will be loosed. Your mind will be full of organized creativity and your thoughts will be fully expressed and understood.

Confusion and anxiety will flee.

Obsession will blast into a million pieces of nothing.

It's not positive thinking or new age feathers in the wind.

It's God's all powerful Word.

For now, I hold your hand. I look into your beautiful blue eyes. I touch your face with tender knowing.

I thank our loving God for His care and for the privilege of hearing you say, "Hi, Mom."

I thank God for your innocence.

I thank God for you.

XXOO

Love,
Mom

Sad

Well, things aren't going so well again. My dear Caleb has a terrible abrasion on his forehead from banging it on the concrete last Saturday. Apparently, he did something close to the same thing the next day, furthering the damage. And now they say he's picking the area like crazy, so healing comes hard.

My thoughts right now take me back to the days we first discovered Caleb's plight and the years following. One day I will go there. As hard as I try right now, it's locked down tight.

Pray for a mother, a father, sisters, a brother—-and for my baby.

Autism affects all.