My son has friends. Two of them.
I’m not sure if I can convey how much that means to me.
They wait for my son to arrive. They greet him at the door with a hug and a cheer. They hold his hand. They lead him. They talk to him.
These are his friends.
I do not have autism. In fact, I know very little about it. But I do know my son.
He is 13 years old. He has blond coarse hair. His eyes are hazel. He hates to be rushed. He loves chaos. Until he doesn’t.
He doesn’t say much verbally. Most people think he isn’t listening. Or that he can’t communicate. But it’s actually the opposite.
He communicates in so many ways. A look. A smile. A scowl. The flap of a hand.
But you have to listen. To really listen. With more than your ears. And not everyone really gets that.
See people get impatient with him. They want everything to be fast and easy.
Not these two. They join his world.
I am so thankful for them.
As a mom, I’ve prayed and hoped for someone to sit with him. Besides me and his dad and his siblings.
Someone to listen and simply be there.
Every day he tells me their names. Although he can’t say the word in full so it’s just the first letter of each name.
And just yesterday, he text me….
Peyton and Dexter Friends Come Hang.
I know it looks different. But it’s just as amazing.
