Isaac's Love

There are many things about autism that are indescribably horrid.  My years as Isaac's mom have included days of frustration and tears.  I have dealt with irrational people and impossible situations and have wondered how I would ever ever survive.  There have been lots of hard days.

But some days are wonderful.  Some days, Isaac's autism is more of a gift than an obstacle.  Today has been a peaceful day.

Isaac has a cold.  He is tired and snotty, but other than that he feels ok.  Thinking that the boy needed some rest and that his teacher does not need to chase his nose with a tissue all day, I kept him home.

I gave the day to my son.  Isaac directed our course.  He has guided me through a slow gentle day. He sat on the couch and watched his favorite cartoons.  Isaac has loved Veggie Tales since he was six months old.  Sam and I are incredibly lucky that Isaac chose Veggies to perseverate on.  They are well written and funny.  The writers are talented and (God love them) they even put a few punchlines in their work that only the parents will understand and enjoy.  So we watched the screen together as vegetables reenacted Bible stories and morality tales.  Isaac was all smiles.  He looked at me and commanded "Sing" when the vegetables broke out into songs.  I take this as a compliment worthy of an invitation to sing at the Kennedy Center.  Isaac does not and cannot lie.  If he wants me to sing with his Veggie Tales, then I must be pretty good!  He does not ask just anyone.  I wear the call to sing with the Veggie Tales as a badge of honor.  Of course, I obeyed.

We sat.  We watched.  Isaac rocked.  I sang on command.  Isaac let me sit close and give him a kiss.  At one point he put his head on my shoulder and fell asleep.  Isaac only dozed for a moment and then was again awake and rocking in time to the singing, dancing produce on screen.  Still for a moment, Isaac choose me.  He put his trust in me to comfort him when he didn't feel well.  That is an honor I cannot describe.

Autism is a different kind of thing.  Isaac has never given me love because I am his mother.  As hard as it might be to read, I have long understood that my value to my son is in the care I give him.  Autism does not ascribe feeling to role.  His love is different.  It is a rare thing that Isaac would seek out a moment of comfort from me as his mom.  But today, he did.  I held Isaac.  I held him and remembered those days years ago when I held him and sang him to sleep for an afternoon nap.  I remembered kissing his forehead when he was a baby, and today I again allowed myself that privilege.  There have been excruciating days.  Today though is not one of those.  It is gentle.  I will enjoy the peace.