I have a lovely summer cold at the moment leaving me a grouchy, stuffy, snotty mess causing Patrick to jokingly say I was "gross" yesterday in front of Larkin. She took offense and told him to say sorry. Not finding his sarcastic "Sooorrryyy." to her satisfaction she then told him "Can you say sorry again politelier?" So begins the next generation of highly useful made-up words. : )
But sorry, back to the topic at hand.
When someone tells you less than favorable news, it’s our natural inclination as caring people to say “I’m sorry”. So the numerous times we’ve had to tell people that Kellen is autistic, well we’re commonly met with “I’m sorry”. Although many insightful people have actually said things like “I want to say I’m sorry, but that doesn’t seem like the right thing to say either.” Truth be told, it’s hard to know what to say. I don’t honestly know what I’d like you to say. Maybe just for you to feel like you don’t have to say anything? Maybe just ask “So what’s your plan now?” Hell if I know. But in the end, I don’t want you to feel bad about saying “I’m sorry”…your heart is in the right place. I just want you to know where our hearts are.
Don’t be sorry Kellen has autism. It’s autism not cancer. He’s not dying, anymore than you or I are.
Don’t be sorry because you feel like we got “less”…we didn’t. Don’t feel sorry for us at all. Remember us when you had to say “I’m sorry” any one of the many times we miscarried. There’s nothing to be sorry about here…have you met Kellen? LOL!
Don’t be sorry because our daily lives are hard…everyone has their own struggle. I see perfectly neurotypical children behaving horribly all the time. It happens. Just don’t judge, we’re all getting by the best we can.
Do be sorry that I can’t just plop my kids in the car and go shopping. But then what mother of young children does that all that well anyway, right?
Do be sorry that we can’t take some lavish vacation because every penny we have needs to go towards Kellen’s therapies/school/treatments while making sure Larkin has all she needs. But then isn’t that what the “hard years” are about anyway?
Do be sorry that we can’t be spontaneous with the kids because we need to follow our “routine”. But let’s face it, I tend to like my routine anyway ; )
Do be sorry that Kellen doesn’t talk…yet…because we are so excited to hear what he has to say when he does.
And here’s the bottom line…we’re not sorry. Would everything be easier for him, for us, if he didn’t have autism. Well, duh. But we know that removing those parts of him would inherently change who he is, who we love, who we need. I love that I can calm him when he’s in the middle of a hurricane of emotions…that no matter what wall autism may build, that I’m the one who can always bring it down. There’s a bond there that is different, that is special, that I would not trade for anything.
He makes us all a little better. Larkin has become a protective, sharing, encouraging big sister. Patrick and I have learned to just go with the flow (well he has…I’m still working on it), and we all have a greater appreciation for the little things…a little song, a little smile, a little funny wave, a Smurf flying into the toilet, a sloping bathtub used as a slide, 2 cats + 1 dog + 2 kids in a game of never-ending giggling chase around the first floor.
Our lives are never boring…and never will be…and for that, I am not sorry.
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