It’s been a long day. A tiresome one. But a good one. I found myself with a rare moment of quiet, two of my children at the counter, the other two playing outside.
My oldest and my youngest. Cooper and Wynnie. My bookends.
I found myself staring at them for a second, wondering what the future holds. The wildcard being autism. Always, autism.
When Wynnie was seven days old, Cooper held her for the first time, reassuring me that this would all be okay. As he cradled her, he counted dramatically to ten with his fingers and not a second longer, before handing her back to me with a triumphant smile and clapping for himself.
My heart filled with joy and then crumbled, reminding me that this autism life is often a double-edged sword. A constant contradiction of joy and grief, both coexisting and intertwined. Neither wrong. That is the greatest lesson I have learned to date in my life. Grief, joy, love, and heartache can all be felt in the same instant. And none of these emotions are wrong.
Though at thirteen and three, their relationship is still in the early stages. Yet I notice his fondness for her, his unending patience as she climbs on him and touches his treasures.
In the autism community, we have a phenomenon we call leapfrogging, when a younger sibling surpasses the older one. Already, we see it with language. Effortlessly she speaks, calling him brother, tattling, teasing, and encouraging. She is a little mother, carefully helping him with his shoes when it’s time to leave or holding his hand as we walk along.
It’s a wonder to see. Ten years separating them. In these moments, when the contradictory moments find me, I celebrate her growth and silently grieve what could have been.
I let the heartache grief and the love crash into me because I truly believe that running from these intense emotions only hurts me. I need to feel it all. So, I brace myself, dip my toe into the tide, and close my eyes and sit in the uncomfortable parts.
Sometimes, the grief lasts days or even weeks. Other times, it’s quicker. And each time, I am left standing, stronger than before.
They are so beautiful these two. In so many ways.
