Yesterday, our family went tubing.
I watched my three year old daughter bravely climb in. Then my five year son and 11 year old son.
They squealed with joy and high fived and yelled for dad to go faster.
I couldn’t believe it. I commented how fearless kids can be.
As we circled the boat, my 13 year old son sat next to me. He watched with bright and curious eyes.
He isn’t one to join in. Or always willingly try.
I looked from him to his siblings. And then said….’Cooper and I are next!’
Cooper gasped. And smiled.
The thing with autism, is it often feels like a series of doors shutting.
As if we are standing in a long hallway together. Walking. Hand in hand. The world just outside the doors. We can see glimpses.
We just have to walk out.
But we can’t. He won’t. There is no forcing.
The doors slam. One after another.
There is just sitting. And waiting. Together. Watching all the world go by through the window.
Knowing as a mom, that he’d love it. If he’d just try. If autism could just release its hold for one minute.
Yesterday, a door opened. Just a crack at first.
Dad pulled the tube close to the boat with the rope.
We raced around the whole entire lake.
He high fived me.
He cheered.
He clapped.
He squealed with joy.
For a second, it felt like a different world. One with ease and joy and open doors.
My son went tubing yesterday.
