Irony never gives you an answer.

Life is full of irony.

Joy...then pain.
Hopelessness...then answers.
Fear...then calm.
Love...then, well all of the above.

The other day after I dropped Kannon off at summer camp, which let me start off by saying was completely my idea for him to go.
My "idea" because it was an opportunity for Kannon to be around typical peers. To socialize with them and learn from their example. To hopefully place him slightly out of his comfort zone and push that Autism bubble enough so that it would touch his head and heart, yet not hard enough that it would burst...

As a mother to a child of Autism these decisions are always crap shoots at best.
We roll the dice with our hearts, and sometimes our heads...but we always say a prayer, take a big breath in and roll the dice.
We always have to let go.
Hoping that our gambles will pay off, for the best of our children.
Every time betting against the odds that maybe this time it will maybe make this Autism thing a little bit better...even if for a day.

Anyways, like I was saying I dropped Kannon off at camp the other day while they were outside having their playtime.
I did this on purpose because I wanted to observe for a bit...I wanted to know why Kannon did not want to go to camp, why every morning he dreaded the drive to go there.
I wanted to know if my crap shoot was paying off in any way.

I watched as Kannon walked from one group of kids to the next, to the next, to the next...

He would walk over, say something and move around smiling trying to engage at least someone from the group. Yet every time he was ignored or looked at for a second then they would go back to their group without any efforts to include him.
He did this for 19 minutes, yes I timed it...then he just walked off into the grass field by himself and sat down.
He sat alone for a few minutes just watching the other kids.
Then he started feeling the grass with his fingertips...grazing the palms of his hands over the tops of the blades over and over again.
He started singing to himself and raised his face up to the sky, closed his eyes and just sang...

I stood there and just watched.
I shook my head at first and wanted more than anything to just take him home...take him back to his world where he was happy and not alone.
But he just sat there soaking it all in.
The sun, the grass, his song...and he was smiling.

One of the hardest things about being Kannon's mother is not knowing what he really understands.
What he really takes in or lets into his heart.
I never really know what hurts him, how he feels about things, and if he understands the emotions attached to what his gut is feeling...

Some may think I am a dreamer myself...too emotionally driven.
Maybe it is my way of "dealing" with the hand I have been given with Kannon.
With all the hurdles we have to go over together every single day.
No matter how small they may be, there are every day hurdles to go over.
Hell most days I feel as if Kannon is the one gracefully leaping over them while I am hurling myself over with the grace of an elephant. ( no offense to elephants... )

Maybe Kannon is just getting some sort of sensory input by touching the grass, soaking in the sun, singing to the heavens...
Maybe he is just stimming. (Stimming is almost always a symptom of autism, but it's important to note that stimming is also a part of most people's behavior patterns. If you've ever tapped your pencil, bitten your nails, twirled your hair, or paced, you've engaged in stimming.)

Well to be honest with myself and whoever reads this, I have to think it is more than that...more than Autism.
I have to believe that in his own way he is "rolling the dice" and doing what makes his heart happy.
Doing what he thinks is best for him at that very moment...and not just some stupid brain itch that needs to be tended to in order to calm his nervous system.

So, after standing there watching Kannon for about 35 minutes I walked away.
I walked to my car, got in, put my face in my hands and just cried...here was my first hurdle of the day.
I don't care how many times I see him getting rejected by peers, it never gets any easier. It never gets easier to watch him play by himself more times than not, even if I understand why it is happening.  No mother likes to see that.

He never had any social interactions, no peer modeling to learn from...not one interaction with another child.
He sat in a field, played with the grass and sang songs to himself while swaying back and forth to his own rhythm of happiness.
More notable though, he was smiling most of the time. Smiling and singing.
This was Kannon's hurdle...now you see how the elephant metaphor applies to myself in contrast to him.
Me in my car crying, he in a field of green grass singing.

Tomorrow, next week, next month I will have to continue to "roll the dice" in hopes of helping him.
Ironic, since he seems to be the one helping me in my life situations.

Days like this do not make it easy.
Some answers/clarification would be great, says every mother of an Autistic child...
Enough said.

peace.

A swift kick to the...

Some days I just want to kick Autism in the balls.
Excuse the classy choice of words, but it's true.

Whenever I walk into a room filled with kids playing, laughing, sitting in groups socializing and there in the back I see Kannon sitting by himself at a table with paper drawing his fairy tale creations...

Whenever I drop him off at school, or take him to a playground and watch him walk up to his peers and within a few seconds they walk away. Then watch Kannon walk off and play by himself still smiling...

When I see how beautiful of a soul Kannon came into this world with.

When I watch him cry in frustration because he can't get his point or emotion(s) across.

While every morning I bathe/shower him, brush his teeth and help him get dressed, then looks at me and says "thank you mamma".

When I watch him watch other kids playing with a sparkle in his eyes.

When he was pushed off the top of a playground after trying to play with other kids.

When he happily waved goodbye to a boy who dumped sand on his head and called him "retarded"...then thanked the boy for playing with him.

After sitting up at nights thinking about what will happen to him when I leave. Who will take care of him. Who will love him. Who will he have to love...


Autism is overwhelming.

At times I ignore it, other times I look it dead on and fight.

I believe in making the best of what you are given, no matter the pain it causes.
We are all much stronger than we may know, or want to know...and sometimes you are tested more than you ever wanted to be in life.

There are times in life you have to let go of pain.
You have to move on for the best of your heart.

You have to forgive, but you don't have to forget.

I know my decisions in my life up to today have all been perfect for me.
They may seem selfish, or stupid or even strong.
It doesn't matter how they are perceived.
What matters is that I am doing the right thing for my soul...for my future.

What matters is that I have a son with Autism.
I also have a daughter that is trying to find her way in our family with all she has had to deal with at such a young age...she is doing beautifully.
I have myself who has been broken, built up again and tries every day to find the simple beauties in life.
I have a small support system of family and friends who are everything to me and I make sure they know that.

Big picture, Autism has defined a lot of who I am today...but it has not consumed me. It has never forced me to do anything or made me make bad choices because of the trials it has put met through.
I know who I am, I know who I do not want to be.

I also know who Kannon is.
I hear his heart every single day...as silly as this may sound it is so true when you have a child who cannot properly communicate. You hear them speak in other ways.
I also know who he wants to be, but can't...because of Autism.
I know he looks at himself every day with frustration yet he finds his way into peace.
He has made peace with having Autism, which in turn has made my world that much.....more, no other word came to mind but more.

To be at peace with yourself is a powerful notion...or action.
I find myself questioning actions, words, thoughts all the time.
Overall I am at peace with the big picture, with the person I am today.
I have Kannon to thank for that.

I had someone tell me today that they have been working with kids for the past 5 years almost every day and that Kannon was the sweetest, happiest person they had ever met.

What else would any mother ever want to hear...
I have a happy soul living on this earth.
He has found peace with it all, and better yet he is happy.

So to that testament and to all I stated above...

If I ever meet Autism face to face I will kick it in the balls.

Assuming it has any.


peace.

A love note to my dad...and to Kyle.

It was at my sisters dining room table.
I truly don't remember the date or year, but what matters is that my father was at the very cusp of his journey with Alzheimer's disease.
He knew it was coming. He was still in good mind that he saw the signs of what was to come.
He lost his mother to the disease and he knew....he knew Alzheimer's would eventually take his own life.

We had sat down together at the table just the two of us and talked for hours. Sadly I can't remember specifically all we talked about, but I know my heart will never forget a few of those things we did talk of.

For today, for this particular post I wanted to bring up one thing I do remember him saying very vividly.
He said he was sorry.
He apologized for what was about to come for our family, because he knew he had Alzheimer's.
He knew the pain, the emotional toll that would result of him having this disease.

Not only was he sorry for the disease that was consuming him, but he was sorry because he was a father.
He was a father, a husband, a brother, and a friend.
He knew the pain he was going to inflict, without his control and without his intent.


I never until now realized how incredibly painful all of this had to have been on my father.
I only knew how it felt for myself.
I never once thought about how hard it must have been for him to realize all of this, process the possibilities, and accept it without fail.
I was too selfish in my own grief that I never thought about his role as a father to have to say goodbye to his children...his wife...his friends...
This is the pain of life.
This is the raw truth of love.

Now that I am a parent, I understand.
I know how hard it must have been to digest all of this.
To realize you must leave your children...to leave them alone without being able to have a future with them.
To experience life with them.
To be a parent.

He had to leave.
He knew it was inevitable and he apologized.

Had I known the depth of this apology at the time I probably would have never been able to physically stand on my own feet and say goodbye to him.
I would have collapsed from the pain.

This is the love of a father.
Of a parent.

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there that love with no walls.
To those of you who aren't afraid of showing your souls.
To those who allow pain, truth, and love be what matters above all else.


After my father died my life was turned upside down and only a select few truly saw the ugly repercussions of it all.
I was damaged.
I was beyond hurt, I was completely empty and truly worthless.
To admit this is very sad for me, but it is the truth.
It is a truth I accept now, and will never forget as a learning tool for my life to come.

It never fails in life that where there is pain and suffering, there is always light.
There is always something worth living for.

We tend to seek out what is missing in our lives in times of heartache and confusion.
What our souls crave we start looking for.
We seek the balance in life that we are missing...even if we don't know what it is we need.
We as humans still seek.

I was seeking laughter...light...something to help me forget the raw pain of loosing my father the way I did.
I wanted to remember laughter.
I wanted to feel the sheer delight of looking at someone/something with complete trust and to just laugh. To truly feel the innocence of being a child again.
To feel safe in my skin and to have someone to talk to again the way I could with my dad.

Enter Kyle.
The joy to my pain.
The person my soul was seeking to help ease the pain I was feeling.

We had known each other for years. We were always friends. I always loved him as a person.
He was kind, honest, and above all he always made me laugh.
Whenever I was around him I felt light...I felt innocently happy.
I wish for him people could truly understand all he has done for me, and for my kids.
I know my dad was watching over somehow, I know he brought Kyle back in my life for a reason.

People are brought into your life for reasons.
No matter the timing or circumstances they are there for a reason.

On the opposite end of that rainbow people also leave your life.
They leave for reasons we may never understand.

I now know the pain and reality of why my father would never want to leave me.
I never thought of it from his side.
Pain and loss can make a person selfish.
However, if you think about it from the other perspective it brings a new light to things.
It makes you a better, more balanced soul.

My father apologized that day at my sisters for having to leave me.
He knew he would never watch me be a mother.
He would never have the joy of being a grandparent.
He knew he was going to leave me before he wanted to.

I was lucky.
I had a father who I loved more than anything.
A father who was not too proud to show his soul.
One whom loved beyond boundaries and was never afraid to tell me how he felt.
One who loved me enough to tell me he was sorry. To tell me in advance to prepare for the inevitable...
I was lucky.

I am still lucky.
I was given a best friend out of all of this.
I was given the gift of laughter again.
I was shown how to love as a parent, as a person, and as a friend.

Man, woman, child, no matter...
Love is love.
If you love someone tell them.
No matter what the situation or circumstances.
Love will save a soul.
Honesty will save a soul, no matter how humbling.
I promise you that.

Thank you Dad.

Thank you Kyle.

Out of all the pain, the trials, the moments of loss.
I came out a better person because of your love.

Thank you to all you amazing father's, friends, humans out there.
You are truly doing life changing work.

Happy Fathers Day.

peace.