3 mins read

Those Precious Moments with My Son with Autism

My son’s history teacher recently gave him an assignment where he had to write about an important moment in his life that changed him in some way, or an important moment in the life of someone close to him that changed that person in some way.

What did he write about?

He wasn’t sure at first.

He said, if he were to write about himself, he would write about his transition to middle school.

Then, because according to the assignment it was okay to ask someone close to you, he asked me about important moments in my life that has changed me in some way.

I talked about the sudden death of my brother in December and how that has affected me. My son knows how awful that was for our family, and he experienced my grief up close.

A few moments later, I told him about something else that changed me.

What did I tell him about?

I talked about the events leading up to finding out about his autism.

I told him about the friend who made a comment to us at his first birthday party. I told him his daddy Googled the word “autism” that night, and we proceeded to scare the hell out of ourselves.

Then, I told him that another friend talked us about her concerns.

Finally, I told him about his dad’s best friend, a pediatrician, who recommended we take him to the Lanterman Regional Center for an evaluation.

And, from that we got a diagnosis and services, etc.

We had a great conversation. My son was attentive and interested.

When I was finished, he decided to write about his autism.

What else happened?

Before he sat down, though, he all of a sudden sat down next to me on the couch with his arm out. He put is around me and we hugged.

He clearly wanted some Mommy love and a long hug—and he got just that.

It was such a nice, loving moment. One I will cherish, as a matter of fact.

Without saying anything out loud, I think he was thanking me for all of the efforts that I (and his daddy) went through to help him throughout his life.

It was sweet and touching, and now that he’s thirteen, being rare.

But, it happened. And, I’ll never forget it.

Did he write the paper?

Yes, but then he asked me not to read it. (He has done that in the past.)

I didn’t read it.

My precious moment was over.

Footnote: A few days later I sent an email to that teacher thanking her for the assignment, it led to this awesome moment between a parent and a child.

 

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