My son Cooper has always reached for a hand to hold when we are in the community. But not just any hand. Typically only mom or dad.
He likes the comfort of us walking alongside him. Usually we lead. Or we walk side-by-side. And as he’s gotten older, he’s even started to lead more. But he’s always only an arms length away. We are his safe spot. His translator. His buffer. His armor. We help him decipher. We explain. We protect. We walk.
We often refer to him as a little old man. Cautious. Careful. He points out ice and mud and dangerous terrain with a point and a gasp.
Maybe it’s his autism. Maybe it’s because this world doesn’t make sense to him. Or because he is unable to communicate.
Maybe it’s just inherently who he is.
On our walk last night, my youngest decided she needed a break from walking and made her way into my arms. Which made holding a hand nearly impossible.
I thought for second he would stop. Sit down even. And we would be stuck.
My heart burst when I watched Cooper reach out to his younger brother and grab his hand.
And even more when Sawyer said…‘I’m here buddy.’
Cooper doesn’t trust a lot of people. But as he gets older, his siblings are making their way in.
They walk. Brothers. One older. One younger. Leading each other.
