Sunday, November 9, 2008

directive perspective

having a SN child changes your view on the world, not in the way one might think. Sure it changes how you look at the economy, schools, presidents... everything really.

But it is the little things that are magnified and brought into sharper focus. those glimpses into the neurotypical that knock me off my feet and cause tears to sting my eyes. every single moment is so powerful when you watch it from my point of view, which is becoming the same point of view as a wonderfully handsome 4 year old named Sammy.

spiders become giant and dust particles float like jelly fish. the clouds in the sky make him want ice cream and the rocks on the ground are cool in his mouth and sandy on his teeth. i watch him as he discovers in his own way the world around us. his wonder as he looses the moment following a spider across the floor. 20 minutes later confused when he becomes aware that mass is over and it's time to go. the delight he takes in sitting on the window sill so he can see the jelly fish in the air. watching the dust dance and fall around the room in the sun beam. it's purely magical for him.

the noises that overtake him, the ones we enjoy, the sounds called music. he covers his ears and pulls at his eye lashes. his hands moving a mile a minute in the air. speaking words he cannot express "get me out, let me go"

his body rigid against mine as I hold him for the millionth time, because once again he has hit me and is loosing control. I don't know the trigger. I can't find it. but the threat to him was real, enough for him to react out of anger and fear. he doesn't want to hurt me. in fact i don't think he even sees me at this moment. I must be the safe harbor, i am the comfort zone.

i need a comfort zone by the time i am done.

some days it breaks my heart to watch him lost in his world, until I step back and watch the world from that amazing view of a four year old boy with autism. it becomes magical ,inspiring, imaginative and sometimes very scary and almost always exclusionary. those quick glimpses are amazing when he lets me in... when I fight myself into his world. trampling the flowers sometimes and never quite as delicate as I hoped to be.

this young boy with the big blueberry eyes and white blond hair. the child who has learned the "sad face" the child who hates me and loves me, both because he truly knows no better. this my son, my world, my hero, my guide, my inspiration. he is my Sammy. and the perspective of the little things is so different from behind his eyes. the little things really do matter. only now do i realise how very much