The Meaning of Life

           At the age of 7 or 8 years old, children become very philosophical and start asking questions like the meaning of life, how it is made, how life is formed, or simply,"How was I made?' or more concretely,  "Mom, what do boyfriends and girlfriends do?" How do you even begin to formulate an answer concise enough to satisfy their curiosity? or at least substantial enough to begin teaching them, well, the real meaning of life without confusing them? A few already have ready answers in their pockets in the hopes of preserving their child's innocence for as long as they can. I was amused with some of their answers, " Boyfriends and girlfriends go to church and stay as far away as possible and they pray." This is funny. Yet it doesn't really answer anything. Nor does it even tell a quarter of the truth. Going back to the question, what indeed is the meaning of life?  More importantly, how do we teach our children what life is? Do we define it for them? Do we let them discover the world on their own?

           Ever since Garret was diagnosed with Autism, life, for us,  took a different turn. Expectations had to be erased. Old beliefs disproved, and our faith questioned. The dreams I had for him--conventional dreams, that is, were "broken". I wanted him to be a theater performer or a writer, or an eloquent speaker. I wanted him to meet the girl of his dreams and spend numerous sunrises and sunsets with her. In short, just like all parents, I wanted the my child to experience and have "best" of everything. Sadly, I realized, I became one of those parents who was creating an identity for their child because of their own dreams not realized or because of their unaccomplished aspirations. So, as you can imagine, on March 2008, when the doctor laid all the cards on the table, I simply broke down. CNN kept on playing documentaries of children with autism, which further intensified the reality of it all.  At the time, I could not accept what fate had given us. I went inside the room and wept. Andro came in and held me. I remember saying, what will happen to Garret? "Malu-oy ko ni Garret". And in the most comforting, reassuring and realistic tone, my husband, told me,  " Honey, Garret is not abnormal, he doesn't have a disease, he is just different." The load on my shoulders lifted. I nodded and said to myself, "He is only different. So why am I weeping?" And as if reading my thoughts, Andro added, " He is unique and special, and he is our son. And we will love him no matter what."

        Looking back, I now realize that I was weeping because, like I said, my own dreams for him were broken. Of course, I know now how foolish I had been to dwell in these notions. I am in no place to demand from my son what he should do, what he should become and what he should accomplish. He is his own person, Autistic or not. It was as if God was telling me out rightly, "There you go again, planning your own plans, not even consulting me. Remember, I alone know everything. and I alone make the plans." There it was. Enough was said.

        So back to the question, what is the meaning of life? And better yet, how do I teach Garret the meaning of Life? With all that our family has been through, I think I may have found the answer, defined in our own terms: Life is love. Love in the purest most unconditional sense. Love is learning to take things and people as they are, not as what it or they should be--no expectations, no what must be's. Life is love exemplified... And how do I teach Garret all this?  I think it has been the other way around. With his autism, it may seem as if he already knows all that is most essential. God has formed him this way. He has been given the gift of life and love. He is our gift. And our gift-- our Garret has been teaching us what life really is.

         As for Morgan? Well, we are still waiting for life to unfold for him. But what we do know for sure is that when he begins to become philosophical and asks how life is formed, what life is, and what love is?,  we will tell him, "Look at your Kuya, life is all about loving your brother for all that he is and will be."  and as for Love? For the sunrises and sunsets he will spend with the love of his life? Maybe I will show him how their father and I have held on to each other through autism, through everything, thus far.

I am Autism

Beyond bars made of rope
Boats, canoes drifting
Oars lie
waiting to be steered
The bars are made of rope
not iron or steel
I hold
them and they mold
into my palms
albeit burning them a bit
But it's alright
If I try
I can pull them apart
and have a clearer view
of what lies beyond
And this is why
I need you
to help me
Hold my hand
Grip it tight
Prod me on
to the light
Cautiously, I step
out of the weaved shackles
and carefully, precariously
into the canoes of hope
See what I can do
See what I can teach you
My smile,
my laughter
my tears
my joy,
my confusion,
my pain,
Come into my world
See what it's like
to see the sky in
rainbow colors instead of blue
to find joy in spinning
to find comfort in echoing
to find peace in dreaming
See my everlasting innocence
my pure heart
I am healing you
as you are healing me
Life as I know it
as I am
and will be..
I bid you come
with me
It's a whole new world
Link your fingers
with mine,
let us watch the sun rise
There is nothing left to say
except
I am beauty made life!

Garret's Prayer

            We were on the road to the Monastery of St. Clare where a shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe is mounted on top of the hill. This is our usual Sunday morning routine with the boys. Garret so loves staying up there for 20-30 minutes at least. It is the one of the very few times where he does not mind the staying-put & doing-nothing situation. On our trek up the steep stairs, he was already grinning from ear to ear. I firmly hold his right hand, he searches for his papa's hand, but finds Morgan's chubby foot instead. Andro was carrying Morgan on the way up. He contents himself with holding on to his brother's limb. And when we reached the top, he quickly goes to the vase of flowers anticipating some water left in the pot. This is one of the many things that calms him-- water. Water rippling, flowing, light shining through the water, his reflection perhaps? When he sees that flowers crowd over the water, he attempts to pull the flowers. I said, "No, Garret, that's for Mama Mary." He quickly withdraws his hand. There is a slight drizzle and the wind blows very gently. Morgan,as usual,  the naughty one, wriggles down his father's grasp and starts to explore the place, his yaya at the ready. Garret then sits down between his father and me on the steps just below the statue. He gazes into the horizon already smiling. Mountains, plants, trees, oh and the sky, the great blue sky with the wispy white clouds bask our eyes. Andro and I fell quiet. Garret giggles quietly and flaps his hands toward the scenery.  He remains seated with no other movements save for his stimming. It is as if he has come to a different place. It is as if God was there talking to him.

        In my darkest hours, I have often asked God even screamed my prayers asking whether he has a plan that I know nothing of for my son and my family. And I could hear no answers, no voice, no wisdom, no nothing. Only my cries of desperation. When I finally get exhausted and could weep no more, time and again, I could hear whispering, "Just let it go. Let me do it for you. Do not think anymore. Let me carry your load...if you could just let go." It is in silence that I could hear angels comforting me.

         Looking at Garret now being in this different, strange place, sitting down, being quiet, smiling, taking in all of the wind, the smell of the trees, vision of mountains,  it was as if he was teaching me once again, " Mama, this is how you must pray. See how God easily talks to me?"

       I closed my eyes and breathed in the mountain air deeply, the wind still blowing.  This time there were no screamed prayers or cries of desperation.  Only chants of thanksgiving filled my mind, "Thank you God for this moment. Thank you God for all this beauty. Thank you God for this peace. Thank you for everything, my family, my partner, Andro, our little prince, Garret and our  feisty king Morgan."

       When I finally opened my eyes, Morgan was already eager to go down perhaps wanting to down another bottle of milk. So Andro said, "Alright, let's go home now."  "Come, Garret.", I called to him. He immediately stood up and held on to my hand and we walked down the steps. "Very good following, Garret." I praised him for not resisting as he usually does when it's time to end something he is enjoying. "He and God are probably done talking.", Andro surmised. I turned to our little prince with a questioning look. He just smiled and continued to walk happily down the steps.