My heart hurts. No matter what pleasant thought I try to think, what flavor of candy I eat, what happy show I watch…I can’t get over it.
Yesterday at Ollie’s check up, our doctor (with previous conversation and my guidance) kindly asked him what he thought of autism. His eyes welled with tears and his lower lip quivered.
Ollie said, ‘It makes me feel like I’m in the middle of a room where I’m not supposed to be.’
These words hurt my heart profoundly. Watching these words come out of my child’s mouth was something that I wasn’t prepared for. And I thought I was prepared for everything. I just love this little boy so much.
I know the place of sweetness, sincerity, and virtue from which these words emerge. When Ollie speaks, those around him listen. I love being privy to his world. He has given so much pause to so many people whose lives he has touched. He shares his wonder for the world abundantly with every single being that he encounters.
It’s so beautiful to be a part of Ollie’s world. Yet, sometimes seeing the world through his lens can be excruciatingly painful. As his mom, I wish that I could cushion the blows. He feels things so purely and intensely. For better and for worse. He increases our awareness of the wonder and curiosity of the world. He makes us laugh from the very bottom of our souls. He is truly hysterical. Yet, at times like this, I just can’t help but wonder what he’s enduring. I’m so grateful that he can share with us even a smidgen of the way that he experiences the world. I wish that I understood how to make him feel like he’s in the middle of a room where he’s supposed to be. What can I do to make that room the right temperature, the right atmosphere, the right mix of everything so that he would feel welcome just being himself?
As sad as I am at this moment, I will get over this. What an incredible breakthrough to understand him! What a wonderful insight to where he is! I’m the luckiest mom in the whole wide world.