Monday, December 6, 2010

and so I love

I love him with everything I have in me. every fiber of my being wakes every morning praying his windows are wide open and its not raining inside the house we share. some mornings I find a bright breezy young man who snuggles me good morning for a second and kisses my hair. Some days I find him snuggled up against me like a baby bird in a nest looking for protection. Some days the rain is just pouring down on us and we don't have an umbrella... its dark and lonely those days.
even after he leaves for school i sit there coffee cup in hand trying to figure out what I did or didn't do that caused the storm to come. Sitting there with tears just beneath the surface and the nagging doubt of pure fear in my heart that somehow it is all my fault.

you see... its been three years since the day autism walked into our life. three years we have had the label and every moment I still wonder what I did. I'm still not past the blame stage of my hurt I guess. I can't blame Sammy, it isn't his fault. I refuse to blame God, because I know God loves me no matter what, in much the same way that I love my sons. So the only one left is me... my fault. Like cold soup spilled in my lap its just there and I don't know what to do with it. I am at a loss. A terrible desperate loss and there isn't a possible way to climb out of this.

I'm sitting here knowing Sammy and I had an amazing night. He helped make dinner and set the table and helped make popcorn. he was sweet and gentle and he was so present. So available to me. I love seeing him this way. I don't want to go to bed because I'm so afraid it will break the spell and tomorrow will be a rainy no good sort of day


  1. This is an amazing post. I can completely sympathize. Usually, instead of sitting with coffee in the morning, I sit at night when the house is quiet and wonder what I could have done differently. I feel guilt, wondering why I didn't have more patience, and why I didn't keep in the front of my mind that he has Autism.

    Very well said, even if it is sad. Keep your head up. You are doing all you can. You are a strong mama! Hugs coming your way.

  2. I do this too, only I do it at night when I am supposed to be trying to sleep, and then sometime I don't sleep so much. I don't do it much anymore, it has eased over time for me. It is a difficult stage to go through, I can empathize. Take care. Jen

  3. I can so relate to what you are saying. There have been many days of tears, and I'm sure there will be more to come. But I know beyond a shadow of doubt that this is not your fault. Rain falls on the just and the unjust - and we don't make the rain come, it just happens.


  4. i cherish those so connected and with it moments too. don't blame yourself...i know it's a lot easier to say than to do. I've learned that regression often comes before progress. Sometimes he just regresses and I start to panic and the regression lasts for days, weeks even and then things get better and it's like he's crossed over the next hurdle. Kind of like he takes 2 steps back to make a giant leap. It's scary. It's unpredictable. I so feel for you. You're not alone. ((HUGS))


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