Navel gazing

If you think I haven't had much to write about, well , you would most likely be incorrect. I stopped blogging because in the world of prioritizing life with only 24 hours in a day, it felt too self indulgent. I love to write. I love to express myself. I find that I much better represent myself with the written word any day over any other form. I feel like it makes me slow down, not worry (too much) about how I might be taken, no interference of my quirks or body language confusing people as to what I mean, my hypersensitivity to others not affecting what I mean to say. I am ultimately a boring person, but here, I hold my readers hostage to the typeface. There are no worries if someone else is doing it better than me (there are better writers as my 11th grade English teacher would be certain to assure you) and if I am boring you (I don't have to see you glance at your watch). You see, I love to write, yet felt, much like everything else in my life, that my talent was mediocre at best and not to be pursued seriously. That pesky 11th grade English teacher will likely never leave my head. I am sure many an English teacher snicker or sneer at my prose. So without true talent, I felt my pleasure just didn't make it into what is important for the family.

I soon realized that my pleasure was not from my ability to master the art of writing, but my desire to express feelings that if left unsaid, would lead me to Prozac. I realized my story isn't necessarily special. Some of our experiences at times feel extraordinary. As I listen to Sophia and her eloquence and understanding of spoken language, I realize that she inspires me - not just as my child, but as someone who can clearly express their view of the world - and her passions. I am not sure if I am capable of that for others. But I know that Zach needs his voice to be heard - and his skills are just terrible that way. It would be great if people could see the world from his point of view, but, at least for now, few will. Communication still alludes him. Oh, he has a few words and gestures, even a phrase or two. But I know (as only a mother can) that he has a lot more to express about life. And it is a voice worth hearing, especially in this day and age. I am very blessed to have a child who has such joy with life. Indeed, Zach is one of the happiest people I have ever met. And he has a smile that makes my fears go away. He has a smile (with a few small dimples I might add) that I have seen bring joy to others. Indeed, he does possess a certain charisma. Yes, he is my kid and I am biased. But more than a few people have told me the same - and I think the reason is that nobody expects a kid with autism, "non-verbal" and immature in near all things social, to do that. Disability is supposed to mean pain, hardship, loneliness. Autism is supposed to mean aloofness and inability to connect. A blue eyed blond kid with dimples? That sort of blows that image.

He needs a voice and he needs people to understand his journey. Until he can tell you himself, I'll be here to fill in.