When our children are younger - caught up in those milestone moments of learning to walk, talk, use the potty chair, feed themselves, etc., graduating from toddlers to the years called 'childhood' - we have hopes and expectations. We have dreams and goals. We have a sense of achievement for their futures.
We want for them all the things we maybe didn't have for ourselves. Or, if we had a blessed and prosperous upbringing, we desire that to continue for their sake.
While I had a decent, moral upbringing, I still wanted my sons to know something more than I had. I wanted them to not know divorce...but we don't always succeed when so many forces are beyond our control. And I wanted the boys to have friends - lots of friends. People with whom they could confide in, play with, learn from, lean on and be good friends to in return. But, we can't control how people return friendship (or not).
And then there are the factors (physical, mental, emotional, etc) that we can't foresee, we don't expect and wouldn't ask for; those things that eventually become part of our lifelong equation of life.
Karl's autism has perhaps slowed down the rate of progress toward maturation, and extinguished some milestone markers in their tracks, but he still occasionally experiences moments of shining hope for his future, and when they happen...it simply brings me to tears. This weekend saw one of those moments unfold, and I had to fight the urge to pull out my camera and immortalize it on the spot.
His circle of known flesh-and-blood friends is small, and most of them he occasionally-to-rarely sees. I would even go so far as to say there may be a couple of those he could go for most of the remainder of his life and never see again face-to-face, and he would be alright with that. Although, he has lately grown a little more comfortable leaving the house periodically to interact with life outside these four walls, I am not pushing too hard to make it happen, but accepting his moments of courage with happiness and hope.
There is another small group of folks he knows, but only in the www-ethereal way. Those online voices and personas with whom he has conversations and shares web surfing time, those folks are kindred spirits (to a degree), but they will never meet.
Do they know he is autistic? Most likely not. They may notice some strange behaviors or vocal things during games or discussions, but mostly he is just some person somewhere who sits at a computer and plays games and laughs at articles and silly memes found out in the web cosmos. Sadly, it seems as though these folks are at other ends of the country, or maybe even on different continents altogether, and the time zone differences make interactions next to impossible.
Such is life.
Excuse me. As usual, I have wandered away from the subject at hand.
This afternoon, Karl was able to assist in getting three friends and himself together in one place, and they spent nearly five hours roaming the mall and chatting, as young people do!
Dropping him at the meet-up point for the rendezvous was a high point for me, and overwhelming as his parent to notice he had combed his mop-ish hair and put on a nice, pinstriped Oxford shirt for the occasion!
I watched from a distance as the awkward gang clamored into another friend's vehicle and proceeded to the mall parking lot to embark on an afternoon of whatever, and I couldn't have been happier knowing Karl was going to blend into the crowd of neuro-typicals for a short time!
Progress in all its forms is a wonderful thing.
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