It was a devastating moment in my life. My little boy, my perfect little angel, wasn't perfect. All of my hopes and dreams for him were gone. That word, autistic, was foreign to me. Sure, I'd heard it in movies and such, but it was used to describe some socially inept person with extreme intelligence. That wasn't my boy. My son couldn't tell me what was wrong. He'd lose control of his emotions, and while we could tell he was smart, he wasn't some super genius that the movies made them out to be.
Now, I know you're probably wondering, 'I thought this post was about a person who fascinates you, not some PSA on autism.' Stick with me. I'm getting there, I promise.
I was warned that my son would never be able to show me affection or express his feelings. But they were wrong. Now, mind you every case is different, but my son is social. He loves people, and above all, he loves me and his father. I know that he enjoys holidays and even understands them. Halloween and Christmas are his favorite times of the year, as you can see from this recent photo we took together on Halloween night just a few weeks ago.
He loves to read. He loves movies and video games. He loves to explore. This little boy that doctors said would never be normal defies the laws of everything. He faces the world head on and doesn't let anything slow him down.
That alone fascinates me. But it also makes me admire him. And though at first I feared what his adult life might look like, now it doesn't scare me as much. Because if he remains as open to the world and what wonders it holds as he is now, than there's no stopping him.
Tomorrow's post is on tattoos. This one will be loads of fun and not so deep. I promise.