Child of mine, I see you.
I see you.
How much you love and accept your neurodivergent family members – without conditions.
How you flap along with your younger siblings even though flapping doesn’t come naturally to you, because you want to share in their joy.
How you willingly partake in scripts because you know it brings comfort to him when you do so.
How you avoid entering and exiting a certain door of the vehicle because it causes him stress.
How you count out seven squares when giving her toilet tissue because you know that’s how many she needs.
How you’ve memorized nearly every song by the Laurie Berkner band and on the “Just Dance” games because they get such heavy rotation.
How you only pour the water to a certain line in the cup because that’s what they like.
How you try to make things more comfortable for them when meltdowns occur, and how much it pains you to see him hurting.
How much you love and accept them.
How much your sweet, wonderful friends love and accept them too (awesome kids they are).
How you say with pride, “My mom, brother, and sister are Autistic. They don’t ‘have autism.’ They are Autistic.”
How you jokingly say, “I’m half Autistic too, because of being raised around it. It’s all I know.” And then you smile – that beautiful, pure, knowing smile.
Child of mine, people like you will change our world.
And I couldn’t love you more.
Not just for that, but for being who you are.