For some, it is just a different way of thinking. For others, it is a profound impairment. For my son, I think it is a learning disability. My teaching background bears witness to that. Man alive does that kid learn differently. It's fun to come up with something that works. He wasn't school material...as bright as he is. But a part of me doesn't want to think of him as autisitc. I want to think of him as Ben.
I gave it the good fight, did everything within my energy and means to help Ben.. Now, I'm just coasting. Like every parent, I hope for the best for my son. I worry he'll get into trouble and have to pay a cost, like jail. I worry he won't find friends to make life worth living. I worry he will find friends and be as wild as his mama. I worry he won't be able to make a living and have to spend the rest of his life living with his parents. I worry he WILL, and he'll move out, and I won't be able to protect him anymore.
He is very sweet overall, but he's a little hot-headed. I worry he's too sweet, I worry he's too hot headed.
When Ben first came home, I worried he would die...really...what's that thing...Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I worried he would quit breathing and I wouldn't be there to shake him into conciousness. I had to give him to the angels so I could sleep.
I worry I'm too neurotic, and he'll suffer as an adult and live in the psychiatrists office. I worry I'm too lax, and didn't give him the right stuff and he'll grow up and be cruel and viscious. I worry I gave him too much of the catholic sense of guilt, and he'll not take chances, or allow others to walk all over him. I worry he'll be poor. I don't worry if he'll be rich...it's damn nice not to have to worry where you're next meal is going to come from.
Well, anyhow...I'm tired.