My sweet boy. I believe with all of my heart in the literal resurrection of the body. That one day this mortality will put on immortality. This corruption will put on incorruption. This sweet boy will be resurrected with a brain free of scars and abnormalities. I love his sweet spirit! I love his belly laughs! I love his smiles and giggles! I love our Alex! And…I look forward to the day his sweet spirit is free from autism.
Alex loves to listen to music – he loves a beat – and a repetitive rhythm. He loves to twirl – like an ice skater. You know, when the person tucks their limbs in so they can go faster and faster. Yes, that is Alex, but he is in his bare feet on the hard wood floor. He really is amazing! He loves to swing. We have two swings suspended from the ceiling. He goes back and forth, kicking the wall for momentum. Or he swings round and round till I would be sick from the rotations. He craves noise – he loves spinning bowls – truly it is a difficult task to rotate a bowl so it will spin over and over again. He flicks his wrist just so and the bowl just goes and goes. It delights him. He loves the sound of metal – metal utensils in metal bowls, especially. He loves tickles and cuddles. He just can’t get enough input, enough stimulus for his brain. He craves it. He loves it.
He loves his routine. From what I understand it is calming to follow the same routine over and over again. He loves when the school bus comes. He knows where his chair is and runs so happily to sit down for a cookie at snack time. He loves his bedtime story. His fav is Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. He has let me branch out a little lately. We read I Like It When and he liked it. All of his books have braille – and he loves to feel the bumpy braille! And I love that when his story is done, he giggles and puts his hands together for prayer. I love this sweet monkey!
But sometimes things go wrong – like today. We were walking down the hall to therapy. He knows that hall. He uses his cane to find the difference between the lobby and the hallway – there is a slight difference in height – he always finds that. He walks a few feet down the hall, then he starts giggling because he knows what’s coming. On the wall, about waist high, there is a metal plate that when depressed opens the door to pediatric therapy. He loves to hit that plate. There is a click as the door is released and then it swings back to allow entrance. Well, today, for some reason, there was no click. The door silently opened. And my son lost it.
Now it could be that we are out of routine – school is out this week for Thanksgiving Break. It could be that he was hungry – it was 11 AM and he usually has had snack at school by then. Who knows what it else contributed, but I know what it was. The door didn’t click. Rage.
It amazes me that such a sweet little soul can contain this much anger and rage.
We tried to help him, a cookie, changing rooms, taking off his coat, but it occurred to me that this wasn’t stopping till we heard the click. So we went back out. I closed the door. And we depressed the plate again together. And, mercifully, the door clicked. And Alex was back!
He happily sat down and ate the cookie and juice I had brought. He laughed and giggled.
Sigh! Goodness! I am grateful for that knowledge that tells me what he needs and what is upsetting him.
I remember sitting in church a while back. A man was talking about the Holy Spirit and how it guided him. His daughter was born with severe disabilities. She could not communicate – at all. And yet her Dad felt like he knew when she wanted to watch a movie or be held, or any numbers of things. He felt it was the Spirit leading him as he cared for his daughter. I remember knowing things about Bella. I think most parents understand this to some degree. We say we know our children. We know their cries and what they mean. But I do believe that He especially guides us with these special, sweet ones. To let us know how best to care for our special spirits. To let me know how best to care for my boy. It’s something I pray for every night, “Please help me to be the mother that each of my children needs.”
So after today’s door not clicking, my reaction, that, to me, was an answer to prayer. Our Heavenly Father knows and understands Alex and his thoughts, needs, and desires. I am so grateful Alex and I have this Divine Interpreter!
(swinging in the therapy room to make sure we were regulated again)