I wonder if you will always reach for my hand when we are walking.
I wonder if you will always be precious and innocent.
I wonder if you will always gasp at birds and at squirrels.
I wonder if you will always point to airplanes. And wave to strangers. And bark when puppies walk by.
I wonder if you will always run up to a mud puddle with such joy and excitement and then look back to get my attention before you jump in.
I wonder if we will always dance and twirl and rest in the middle of tree covered paths.
I wonder if you will always pick up handfuls of sand and watch the grains fall through your fingers.
I wonder if you will always turn your ear into the wind, hearing things that I cannot.
I wonder if we will always mosey along at our own pace, oblivious to the world, like some old couple out for a stroll.
I wonder if you will always tell me when you get a bump a bruise and demand a kiss to make it better.
I wonder if you will always need me this much.
I do not know the answers sweet boy. I can’t predict the future.
I don’t know what our world looks like when you are 15 or 25 or 40.
Because Autism is woven into you, like the thread of a quilt. Beautiful. Intricate. Heavy. Colorful. Strong and tough. A complicated pattern of sorts.
I do know that some days I am so scared I can hardly breathe. And some nights, I lie awake trying to figure out how to keep you safe forever.
You are the most precious thing I have ever known. And I will surround you with love and support until my dying day.
I also know that in the beginning, I used to hold your hand so tight. And now, you hold mine. You lead. You let me know when you are fine on your own.
And I find myself reaching for you more and more. But you are busy.
You are dancing arms up to the sky. And I stand back and watch until you beckon me to join in.
And I wonder how I got to be so lucky.
