Said goodbye to Jenks today.
Miracles everywhere.
Half the rides closed off? Fifteen years ago a tantrum of such magnificent proportions ensued it took myself and two Jenks cops to pull him off the barricades.
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Today? Barely a glance.
My son is handed a pretzel that’s been spinning since the Trump administration? Taking it back from his hands and being told it will be a five to ten minute wait for a fresh one? Not a problem.
Walking to Kohrs to get Mommy’s mandatory pumpkin custard, past the expensive pretzel place twice, and back to acquire the fresh one? Years ago five minutes would have been an impossible eternity.
Now, not an issue.
Passing the fun house where I huddled with my sister-in-law waiting for our husbands to come rescue us? Just a memory.
I never promise anyone it will get better.
Nobody can ever promise you that.
But I truly believe autism is cyclical. We had our struggles when he was little, the half moon scars on my body attest to that.
We had our struggles when he was ten and so aggressive I never thought we’d leave the house again.
We had our crises when he was fourteen and I thought he lost his soul, and it took five years to find a neurologist bright enough to figure out what happened.
There will be hard times yet to come.
The best thing I ever did was to learn when we’ve lost something we’ve accomplished, to remember it might still return, or something even better might replace it.
Have hope.
Today I had carbs and rides, and a walk with my boy.
Of course, I love him.
But I have the gift of being able to enjoy him too.
For more on my family visit my blog at autismmommytherapist.wordpress.com
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