Enough

This is a photo of Garret doing a Farmer's Carry with a 10-pound kettlebell in each hand, for our functional movement exercises this afternoon. He started with a 7-pound kettlebell just barely a month ago. Now he can carry 3 pounds more in each hand. But what is more astonishing is how he responded to what I requested of him. I asked him to pick up the kettle bell one last time so I can take a good photo of him. Without hesitation, he picked up the kettlebell looked at the camera, stood still and after I clicked, he put down the kettlebell and went back to our room. 

"Come, Morgan. It's time to climb. And we'll hold on for five seconds, okay?" Morgan quietly and willingly approaches the wall, positions his hands and feet on the holds and held on for a solid five seconds. With no help from Mama. Morgan's understanding of the world has expanded clearly shown in the quickness and relevance of his responses. 

Since May this year, we've decided to take the personal reins of our two boys' education as our sped center has reached its final journey. And now more than ever, never have I been more fulfilled as a mother. This is not to say that it is easy. It never is. If any, the challenges become harder. But one thing is certain-- our joys AND ponderous moments are richer in meaning, realer, deeper in purpose. 

I remember the day Garret was first diagnosed. I broke down. Wept in the doctor's clinic. The barrage of questions came. How will we endure? How will we overcome?  There were no answers, only a certainty that the future arrives one day at a time. Today, I remember  this is how we decided to live our lives from then on, to do the best we can one day at a time. 

I reflect now too that in order for us to have arrived to this day, doing the best we can meant we gave value to the present moment, to value presence. To be with our boys in the real sense of the word. To eliminate what is not important, what does not add value to our lives. To focus on what does.

So when my vision of the road ahead blurs as it surely will now and then, I only have to remember how we have come to this place, this very moment-- Presence. When I am present, I am able to see with so much clarity how much Garret and Morgan have come so far. When I am present, I am able to know what they truly need. When I am present, I am reminded that what they need, what we need is what we have right now. When I am present, I know in my heart that what we have right now and what is in store for us in the days to come is and will always be enough.

A Moment of Perfection

I sing, "The wheels on the bus go..."
Garret sings, "wownd and wownd
I sing, "Round and round"
He sings, "all through the town"
"The wipers on the bus..."
"Go wees wees wees"
"Swish swish swish"...
"All through the town..."

In another moment, Morgan cups my face in his hands, stares at me eyes twinkling, grinning, laughing. No words are said. Only embraces that become tighter the more he laughs his heart out. Until he catches his breath from our roughhousing.

This is how Garret and I converse. This is how we connect.  We sing.

This is how Morgan and I talk. This is how we connect. We embrace and play.

And when we do, it doesn't matter that we are repeating age old nursery rhymes and playing with no specific purpose in mind than just to sing and play. It may seem repetitive, boring, nonsensical, childish to others. But for me it is the most beautiful thing in the world. Because in those few precious moments, my little prince and feisty king are in my arms, looking at me intently, happy. And in those moments, we are connecting to each other through our own language. In those moments I know in my heart they know the love I have for them. In those precious, merciful moments, our world is perfect.

Isn't this all we really want in this life? Isn't this all we need in life?  To connect with somebody? With our dearest friends? To know we are not alone in our journeys no matter how different our baggage may be? With our life partner? To go through life with each other as anchors when the turbulent seas of life become rough. To be each others sails and be one others wind at the same time so we may become who we are meant to be. With our children? To know their deepest fears and aspirations, to let them know how we love them so much that they wouldn't even know what to do with the love we have for them?

Converse, discuss, dialogue, talk to each other about everything. Have a good conversation. The simple ones. Even the hard ones. Especially the hard ones. Face each other. Be vulnerable enough to show who you truly are. Be brave enough to see people as they really are. Laugh hard. Weep, if you must. Be angry if you should be. Don't turn in. Open your heart, arms outstretch, palms facing the skies. You may not get hurt with closed palms but  you can't catch all the miracles the Universe has intended for you either.

So go ahead, look to the people around you. Converse. Connect. Sing if you want. Hold a friend's hand if that is what is needed right now. I'm hoping you might have a piece of what I experience with my beautiful boys-- A moment of perfection. Every single day.

Insights from Another Contintent

Some days are good and wonderful and some not so great. And then there are days where you meet people who let you see the world in a different light, allow you to reach deep within your soul and illuminate even the darkest corners of your mind. I am so blessed to have come across a fellow autism parent from another continent, a father who is undoubtedly and utterly devoted to his son. I have him to thank for the insights I gained for the past two weeks.

My boys, Garret and Morgan, are sent to save me from myself.

Mark Twain once said, "The two most important days in your life are: the day you are born and the day you find out why." In the most wondrous of days where miracles happen, when my two boys reach certain milestones at their own pace, my heart soars. When I see the joy in the faces of the other parents at the center because of their own children's milestones achieved, all the more joy. It is at this point that I reach my own milestone. There is that one clear, true thing that resonates within my soul-- I know now why I was born--So I can parent my two boys. To be a mother to Garret and Morgan is the greatest gift the Universe has given me. My purpose in this life is a gift from the universe. And the other reason is so that I can help other parents, families, children afflicted with autism. My boys are sent to save me from myself so I can serve a purpose greater than myself. So that I can be bigger than who I am. The universe has given me the greatest gift. And this gift is my salvation.

My two boys make our lives doubly blessed, double the strength, double the resilience, double the joy.

Everyone reaches a breaking point. I did three days ago. I went to the safest place I could find and wept. I asked all the unspeakable questions that you're not supposed to ask. And I allowed myself the mistake of self-blame and self-pity. I just had to let it out. Somehow detoxifying myself from all these negative thoughts. Purifying my soul somewhat. And two of the kindest people I know provided me a sense of comfort. They prayed for me right there and then, even cried with me. I cannot thank them enough. When I was relieved from all that ugly pain, I pulled myself together and with a newer, stronger resolve, I said, "Despite everything, I am still blessed." We are not given crosses we cannot carry, so they say. That is why I know with my two boys, I have been given double the strength, double the resilience, double the love, double the grace and double the joy.

"Having children of any kind is a privilege that not every adult gets to enjoy. It's our duty to those people to appreciate our children fully and never take the experience for granted." -Pete Owens-

No need for explanation, really, for this third insight. Life is really,really good to me. Thank you, life. Thank you, Pete Owens.

Lastly,

One of the great purposes of autism is so that we will never forget our shared humanity.

The Talmud says, the highest form of wisdom is kindness. We are but one in experiencing the complexities of life. We each carry our own burdens, we each have to climb our own mountains. Autism may have been brought to our lives so that we may know how to value people more, be less judgmental, be more accepting of each of our individual eccentricities and plain differences. As we rally on the advocacy of spreading autism awareness, we must not forget the basic premise of our earnest admonition-- kindness. We are pleading people to be kind to our children by having an open mind and open heart, be more accepting of them, be educated enough to help them the right way, and if they choose to be, they can be advocates themselves of our children and other children with special needs. We are but one humanity, regardless of race, nationality, country or continent. We draw strength from each other. We draw wisdom from each other. And that wisdom, of the highest form, is kindness.

This particular day, all I can say is that the Universe certainly knows what it is doing. Autism at the top of the list.