Stories From the Heart: Mommy, Am I a Real Boy Now?
Jan 25th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
The following is a collection of quotes from Alyxander, our Autistic 9 year old has said to me throughout our many years of therapy and doctor’s visits. Many times, it was these thoughts which sustained us through the difficult road his disability has taken us on.
“Do you remember when I was inside you? I do. It was warm and dark, but I wasn’t scared. I used to talk and whisper with my brothers when we were all together. I let them go out first, but I was shy. I hid in the back.”
“I love my Family. I want them to always be with me.”
“Other kids hurt me. They won’t play with me. Why not?”
“I don’t want to talk to others. Make them all go away.”
“Too much noise and heat. Leave me alone.”
“I really like Star Wars. I want to be a Jedi, and go to other worlds.”
“I can’t read, but really I can.”
“When my family is with me, I can do anything.”
“Francine is my therapist. She lets me stay in the cocoon. It is safe and warm and dark. I can remember things in the cocoon.”
“Mommy, what is Autistic? Is it like being an Indian?”
“Mommy, am I a real boy now?”
“I am a real boy now.”
Yes, Alyxander you are real boy now.
By Anonymous
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Stories From the Heart: A Lesson Learned
Jan 18th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
On March 19, 1985, a beautiful, bouncing baby boy named Matthew was born. On January 26, 1987, he was diagnosed with Autism and our family’s life was changed forever.
Matthew looked like the three B’s of babies with autism … big, blonde and blue-eyed! At least that’s what many looked like in 1987. Back then autism showed up in 1 out of 10,000 births with 3 out of 4 being males. We were a bit of an oddity back then, but things have certainly changed since.
It was a good three days before the diagnosis set in and the grief began. It was deep and nauseating but eventually floated away like fog rolling out after a good rain. After all, he was still my Matthew. Could life really change that much? We found out quick just how much.
After observing Matt for 15 minutes, our school system was determined to label him with mental retardation and provide him with an inadequate program. Matthew had many strengths that were not even being considered. It was then I knew it would be up to my husband and I to advocate for what’s best for Matt … nobody would be doing this for us.
We ended up in a pre-hearing conference with our school system and won the right to have him educated at the Groden Center, a day school program for children with Autism within an integrated pre-school. Back then, very few programs provided integration with typically developing children, but the few studies out there and our gut told us this would be extremely important for Matt’s success. Placing him there when he was three years old was the first and best decision we ever made, and sending him back to his home school three years later was the second.
When he finally said “Mom”, he was five years old and shortly after became toilet-trained, which were miracles in themselves. He left the Groden program toilet trained, using some basic words and was able to read close to 200 sight words. I still keep the flash cards in my bed stand to remind me of the road traveled. He entered Kindergarten with a trained one-on-one teaching assistant at Washington Oak School in Coventry, Rhode Island. Little did I know that the wonderful peers he came to know as friends on that first day would become the grown up young adults he would graduate from Coventry High School in June of 2004.
I would love to say that between the wonderful school supports, great peers and a supportive family he had over the years was enough to make everything perfect in his life. But that would not be true. His autism, combined with an additional diagnosis of bipolar disorder at age 9 made his life and ours quite challenging. The irony was that we now had a child with mood swings who could not tell us how he felt. The crying, the anger, the anxiety were all part of the everyday experiences throughout his school years. The challenge to our school system as well as our family, especially his brother and sister were on-going.
Just when we thought we were in the right direction, things would change again. There were days when his OCD was so bad that it would take him two hours just to get from his bedroom to the morning school bus. Many of those days, we just pulled down the shades and stayed home.
But the reality is that Matthew’s autism has brought us joys greater than any sorrow. For every day of sadness there has been a day of celebration! The kindness shared from doctors, teachers, friends and neighbors who shared our laughter and well as our tears have created lifelong relationships. These individuals choose to be on this journey with us. They are simply the best of the best! Our paths would likely never have crossed if we had not taken the road less traveled.
There have been “moments of greatness” I don’t believe we would’ve ever experienced. The duet Matt and I sang in a school cabaret with a standing ovation of 400 people, the wilderness field trip where he had to climb over a ten foot wall with six friends under him helping him over the top, the many years where he sang the Star Spangled Banner for an auditorium full of people, or when he read “Green Eggs and Ham” to Kindergarten children when he was in 5th grade are just a handful of examples.
Most importantly, walking across the stage and receiving his high school diploma with 450 of his classmates was a moment that will be etched in our hearts forever.
At 20 years old, we are getting ready for his adult life to begin and it’s possible there will be more obstacles ahead. But I’ve learned that life has challenges for each of us and these experiences define our purpose. What I know for sure is that Matthew’s Autism has brought our lives a sense of compassion, sensitivity and empathy we may have never known. And moments we will never forget! The world could use a few more compassionate people. Maybe that’s what Autism is really meant to teach us!
Deb Belanger
Mother of Joe, Matthew and Aimee
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Social Skills Success – Teacher, Professional & Parent Training Workshop in Vancouver, BC
Jan 13th
Posted by autismtoday in News
A Social Skills Training Workshop for Kids with Autism Spectrum Disorders. Presented by Jed Baker, Ph.D. – All Kids Can Succeed: Handling Challenging Behaviours and Reaching Social Skills – Vancouver, BC – Thursday, April 19th, 2012 – Norman Rothstein Theatre – 950 West 41st Ave (at Oak Street)
Early Bird Registration Ends March 19th 2012! Register today to ensure your seat.
Click here to register as a parent - 99 $79 – Click here to register as a professional - 129 $99
Here are Just a Few of The Benefits of Attending:
- Learn how to prevent and manage meltdowns or tantrums
- Learn strategies to teach verbal and non-verbal students
- Find out how to develop an effective behavior plan
- Become a facilitator to help create peer acceptance
- Gain skills in teaching peers to be more tolerant and supportive
- Inclusion Techniques for creating lasting friendships
- Discover how to put together a social skills training programs
- Case studies that show the strategies in action
- Discover the reasons for social skill deficits and disruptive behavior
This workshop is about understanding challenging behaviors in social communication disorders with an overview of behavior management techniques.
Specific, user-friendly strategies and techniques for providing relevant social skills instruction to children and teens with ASD will be shared at this workshop.
Enjoyable socialization methods are emphasized so individuals may experience success and desire to build skills. Social deficits affect life at home, school and eventually in the workplace. Conference participants will learn both highly beneficial strategies that can be used across a variety of settings and routines; and practical and effective solutions to assist “typical” peers, family members and professionals.
Stories From the Heart: Eye Contact
Jan 11th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
I’d give anything for a glance in my direction. I ache for it. All my other children will look into my eyes when I speak to them, but he won’t. It’s not by choice; he just can’t do it. Although he isn’t blind, a neurological condition does make it difficult, if not impossible.
How easily we take for granted that simple, little gesture. Yet, how significant its impact when it is lacking. I was always told that as a good listener you must give eye contact and other appropriate body language to let the speaker know you are paying attention. So, does that mean he’s not listening to me? Probably. Maybe. And if the eyes are truly the “windows to our soul,” will my son never be able recognize or acknowledge the true essence of another person?
Some adults inflicted with the same, mild form of autism as my son have been able to articulate their position on this (allegedly) essential, non-verbal communication skill. Their general consensus is that they can’t concentrate on what you are saying if they have to look you in the eye. It’s almost painful for them. But more than that, I imagine that they don’t really see the need for it at all. Just because we don’t think they are listening doesn’t mean they aren’t.
Neurotypicals, as the rest of us are called, must come across as being a really self-conscious bunch, always needing affirmation and validation, both verbal and non-verbal. It reminds me of a story of a mother who asked her teenage son with high functioning autism why he never tells her he loves her. “I already told you when I was seven; my feelings for you haven’t changed,” was his response.
So, why do I need eye contact from my son to feel that we have a bond or connection? It’s not his hang-up. At school they are teaching him to look people in the eye when they speak to him, and God love him, he is trying. Yet, sometimes it feels more like he’s looking through you, rather than at you.
So much pressure to put on such a small child who did not choose his Autism. If I didn’t have my other three children who are capable of providing eye contact, would it be harder for me to accept my son’s limitation? Would I be more desperate than ever for it? Or would I be able to come to terms with it sooner, being that it would be all I’d ever known?
Parenting a child with special needs forces you to adjust your expectations. This doesn’t always have to be negative, though. I’ve learned that what is important for me as a mother is to let my children love me anyway they know how. My oldest daughter has many ways of showing me love. She is very affectionate and tells me constantly that she loves me. We even butt heads frequently on many issues. This, too, is another way she shows her love for me, as a measure of trust. Even my two, young babies express their love for me. They cry when they see me leave the house, and then show such excitement upon my return.
My son shows his love for me, too, in his own special way. When I see him concentrating on his drawings or hear him laughing at his favorite cartoons, I know he is happy and, we are meeting his needs. Although his speech is improving, he still can’t quite communicate with me in the typical way. However, when he tells me the same knock-knock joke for the twentieth time in a row, I know he is sharing something important with me. He wants to hear me laugh with him. I know that he could have chosen to sit in his room, cocooning himself in his flannel Tigger sheet, with only his stuffed animals for companionship. No, he has chosen to be near me, rather than disappear into his own world. For this I am grateful. Eye contact, or no eye contact, I love him too.
By Jen Warwick
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Successful Outcomes for Students with Autism & Related Disorders
Jan 9th
Posted by autismtoday in News
Announcing a Special 1-Day Workshop with Diane Twachtman-Cullen on Successful Outcomes for Students with Autism & Related Disorders which is coming to Calgary, Alberta on April 13th 2011!
Register Today for SUPER Early Bird Rates – End January 31st 2012
Full details: http://www.autismcalgary.org
Achieving Successful Outcomes for Students with Autism and Related Disorders: A Strategic Roadmap for Parents, Teachers and Special Needs Professionals presented by Diane Twachtman-Cullen, Ph.D., CCC-SLP – Editor-in-Chief, Autism Spectrum Quarterly
Register Today for Super Early Bird Rates – End January 31st 2012
Autism Calgary – April 13th 2012 – Parent Super Early Bird – Special $49 – Regular $99
Autism Calgary – April 13th 2012 – Professional Super Early Bird – Special $79 – Regular $129
Calgary, Alberta – Friday, April 13th, 2012
Here are Just a Few of The Benefits of Attending:
- Essential Elements of Individualized Programming
- Past Perspectives and Present Practices
- How to Write Meaningful Goals and Objectives
- Measuring Student Performance
- Tools for Assessment and Decision Making
- Comprehension: The Power that Fuels Expression
- Critical Thinking: An Essential Life Skill
- All Things Social
- Tips for Teaching Skill Development
- Moving from Theory to Practice
This practical workshop offers a comprehensive “A to Z” plan for addressing the needs of students with autism spectrum disorders (ASDs), nonverbal learning disorder (NLD), and ADD/ADHD. The learning-style differences and needs of these students will be defined, and a detailed step-by-step plan for achieving successful outcomes—The Strategic Roadmap for Teaching—will be presented for addressing challenges related to language, behavior, nonverbal communication, social thinking, and organization and planning. This strategic roadmap will include specific information on ways to decrease prompt dependency and facilitate generalization across multiple settings and people, as well as measurable teaching goals and objectives to ensure ease of application of evidence-based strategies in real-world settings.
Stories From the Heart: I’m Still Your Michael
Jan 4th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
My son was born with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes with eyes lashes that women spend hundreds of dollars trying to duplicate. He was the perfect baby. He was gorgeous and rarely cried.
However, as he grew older, I began to realize that something wasn’t quite right. He didn’t reach developmental milestones when he should and by two he wasn’t talking. I started taking him to specialists but it wasn’t until Michael was 6 that he was diagnosed with Autism.
I was devastated. The doctor’s told me that my little boy would never lead a normal life. He would never have a regular job, never live independently, never go to college, get married and have the family I dreamed of for him.
One night as I was sitting there pretending I was feeling sorry for my son but truly feeling sorry for myself, I flipped the TV to a special on autism. I sat there crying in my self-pity and Michael walked into the room. He sat down on the floor and began to watch the show. This was very unusual. Michael was never interested in TV unless it was commercials. He sat there for a long time and towards the end of the show, he looked up at me and said, “That’s what I have isn’t it, Mommy? I have autism.” My heart fell into a million pieces as I said quietly, “Yes”.
“Well,” Michael said, “that’s OK because I’m still your Michael,” and he got up and trotted out of the room.
It was at that moment that I realized he was right. It didn’t matter what label the doctors gave him or what challenges we faced. He was my little boy, my Michael, and together we would make it through this.
That is exactly what we have done. Together with God`s help, my son has made incredible progress. His diagnosis has been changed to Asperger’s Syndrome. He is fully main-streamed in school and has an active social life. He’s a freshman in high school and plans to go to college and become a pediatrician. He faces challenges every day of trying to understand the social complexities of this world and trying to fit in. Math is incredibly difficult for him but reading and science are his things. He reads constantly and has an amazing innate understanding of biology. He is my hero.
By Anonymous
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Stories From the Heart: Angel on Earth
Dec 28th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
Our first child, Matthew, was a much anticipated and planned-for child. We had diligently finished college, established our careers and delayed parenthood until we could comfortably afford it and until I could stay home and be a full-time mother. So much for planning for the perfect situation!
Matthew was a cute, but difficult baby from day one. He had sucking problems, followed by vomiting problems, followed by fussiness, and on and on. At one point, my husband wondered aloud if I was even “mother challenged” as I was overwhelmed and in tears at times. Because Matthew had to be held upright for 30 minutes after each feeding to reduce his chances of vomiting up an entire feeding and because he wanted to eat every two hours into toddler age, it felt as if I was always feeding, holding him or changing him. My husband was frustrated that I was frustrated.
Matthew became a patient at Children’s Hospital as an infant but it was not until he was five years old that he was diagnosed as having Asperger’s Syndrome, which is lumped under “Autism Spectrum Disorder”.
At age five, Matthew was still vomiting daily, slept very little, had no fear and was obsessed with Halloween and all things spooky. We were not prepared for a diagnosis of Autism and grieved deeply for our sweet little boy. We had delayed parenthood so that we could give our child every opportunity and it pained our hearts that Matthew would not have the full, complete life as we had imagined it. We could see how much he had suffered (who wants to vomit repeatedly every day?) and were brokenhearted as we read everything we could get our hands on about the disorder.
That was eight years ago. Today, Matthew is fourteen years old. He has a delightful and unique sense of humor and is always cracking us up. He makes me stop and consider a new way of looking at things every day with his comments. He truly sees things that a typical person never considers. He has taught us the beauty of asymmetry. The insights he has given us have made us both better persons. Our hearts and minds have been expanded by being with Matthew. We are more open-minded, tolerant, and at peace than before Matthew. We have changed our opinions of what we choose to get upset over. More situations seem like “small stuff” than before Matthew.
We would never maintain that watching Matthew struggle is easy for either of us. On our bad days, we still catch ourselves grieving for Matthew. He struggles with directions, self-care, feeling confused and overwhelmed with the world of “Typicals”. He requires specialized education and has been attending after-school social skills instruction for eight years. He works very hard at things that come easily to typical people and always will. But, it warms our heart to see how far he has come. He is growing into a kind, thoughtful, honest man. He has a gentleness and pureness about him that inspires us to be more like him. He truly seems untainted by the world around us and cannot understand why people do bad things. He seems like an angel on earth.
The name “angel” means “Gift from God”. We knew exactly what name we wanted for our boy when I was five months pregnant. It took much longer to realize how perfect the name was for our son. We truly believe he is a gift and he has given us more than we can every hope to give him.
By Anonymous
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Stories From the Heart: Irish Eyes
Dec 21st
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
As an undergraduate student, I was majoring in Physical Therapy. I had chosen to pursue a career in Physical Therapy in high school, and had never really questioned the decision. During my senior year, I had the opportunity to volunteer at a BOCES in Ithaca, New York. I was focusing on pediatrics, and felt this would be good practice. I had no idea it would be a life altering experience.
I was placed in a classroom of children with severe and multiple disabilities ranging from autism to cystic fibrosis. Many of the students were unable to speak or walk. This was a very different type of environment for me. However, I began to look forward to the afternoons I would spend in the BOCES classroom between my own classes at Ithaca College. The classroom teacher involved his students in activities I never would have thought possible. The class went bowling, took part in scavenger hunts, cooked meals, and danced at school concerts. The time I was spending with the students was opening my eyes to the endless ways in which children who had seemed unable to do many of the things I took for granted, could take part in the community and enjoy the same activities I enjoyed.
While all of my experiences in that classroom touched me, there was one day and one child who changed the path of my life forever. That afternoon, Jay, a child with cerebral palsy who used a wheelchair and had no verbal language, needed help getting his coat on to go home. As I leaned over his wheelchair and buttoned up his winter coat, one of my curls plopped forward in front of Jay’s face. I felt a little tug on my hair and looked up to see Jay bouncing the curl, laughing, and staring right into my eyes. His green eyes were sparkling. I rubbed his hair and joked around with him while he laughed and continued to gaze at me. At that moment, something changed inside of me. This child was making an effort to communicate and interact with me. That is when I realized the difference I was making in the lives of those children. I wanted to continue to make that difference.
A few months later, I decided not to continue in the field of Physical Therapy. The next fall I began working towards a Master’s degree in Special Education. Today I am teaching children with Autism and experiencing moments such as that each day. Every time one of my students makes a connection with me, comes over to give me a hug, jokes around with me, masters a skill, makes progress in his behavior, or just smiles at me, I know that I made the right decision. I have never once regretted volunteering at BOCES or changing the direction of my professional life.
I will always remember Jay. I am thankful that he came into my life at that time and was able to have such an impact on me and the lives of all of the children I will touch throughout my teaching career.
By Anonymous
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Stories From the Heart: That’s How Micheal Spells His Name
Dec 14th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
Micheal was angry, and yes, that’s how Micheal spells his name. He says his mother made a mistake when she gave his name to the doctor. He claims his mother isn’t very smart. When Micheal tells us this, he goes on to say that that is why he isn’t very smart either. Micheal has a number of diagnoses’ including a severe brain impairment, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, oppositional defiant disorder, a learning disability and a couple of others they haven’t quite been able to put their finger on yet.
I met Micheal at his group home. I was called in to help the staff get him under control as he was “angry.” Apparently, Micheal did a lot of damage when he was angry. There were holes in the walls, broken doors, and shattered glass when I first started to visit Micheal. I asked him why he was so angry and he said “Because no one ever listens to me!” I asked him what he had been saying that they didn’t want to hear, and he claimed that all he wanted was to be able to walk in his community alone and get a paying job. It didn’t seem like too much to ask to me.
Upon investigation, I learned that Micheal had never been granted independent community time because his social worker and staff all agreed that he was not capable of being alone unsupervised. I did some assessments and decided to test Micheal in his neighborhood. We went out together to walk my dog. I was unfamiliar with Micheal’s neighborhood and found myself disoriented on many occasions. Micheal was my saving grace. No matter which way we turned, he was able to bring us back home. In fact, we got lost three times; all in different directions, and, Micheal brought us back each and every time! I was amazed at his ability and began to question whether I should be out alone, if they said he wasn’t capable.
I wrote a letter to his social worker, met with his staff and began to beg for Micheal to have a chance at being human. Finally, it was granted and Micheal began his community independence – 10 minutes at a time with a staff shadow for safety. He excelled and within one month he was working at a local McDonald’s, responsible to get there and back by himself and successfully completing 6 hour shifts. Micheal was ecstatic and lo and behold, all the violence stopped.
He volunteered with a local organization where he bathed a llama and took him to the park to meet and greet. Micheal was amazing with the public. I have never before seen anyone so comfortable with others. He was completely in his element. I was present for this event and was suppose to be chatting up the public but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t have to because I had Micheal!
To date, Micheal still volunteers for his local organization and is currently looking for alternate employment as it has come to his attention that he is not very good at multitasking. When he received this news, Micheal shrugged and said “Oh well, onto bigger and better.” I would have been crushed personally.
Micheal has shown me a spirit, will and determination I could only wish to posses. He continues to succeed despite others treating him as less than equal and assuming he “can’t” just because he is disabled. When given the chance, he steps up to the plate every time. On more than one occasion, Micheal has shown me the softer way to deal with people or problems. He has and always will be an inspiration to me.
By Anonymous
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
Stories From the Heart: Camp Orkila
Dec 7th
Posted by autismtoday in Stories From the Heart
“Can I go upstairs, Mom?” Kevin asked, dropping his book on the table while he danced and twitched in the aisle, his eyes darting around the ferryboat. “Sure. I’ll wait here,” I replied. I could tell Kevin was nervous about this school outing to Orcas Island, but excited as well. The rest of the 6th grade students were seated on the other side of the boat, talking together and eating their sack lunches. For them, this was just the first day of a four day trip to Camp Orkila. For Kevin, it was most likely a day trip, a chance to see the camp and determine if he could get past his fear of staying there with the other kids.
His clothes and sleeping bag were packed in the car just in case, but I didn’t expect that he’d decide to stay. His psychologist and teachers agreed with me that taking this trip, would be good for him, however, and it would help him work through his fears. Maybe I should have insisted that he participate, rather than giving him the choice, but it’s just so hard to know with Kevin.
Bounding back over to the table, a bewildered look on his face, Kevin breathlessly exclaimed, “Mom! A girl is sitting next to Greg with her head on his shoulder!” Greg was Kevin’s greatest enemy and best friend all rolled into one.
Suppressing a smirk, I decided this was one of those learning opportunities of which parents are expected to take advantage whenever possible. “Well, Kevin,” I said in my best June Cleaver manner, “I would assume that it means she likes him”.
“Greg?!” He asked incredulously, “How could she like Greg?”
“She must see something in him that you don’t see.” I replied. “But she’s really pretty!” he said. Struggling now to keep from laughing, I continued, “Kevin, there is someone for everyone.” Quietly processing that information for a moment, his head cocked to one side, and his brow furrowed, Kevin suddenly smiled and said confidently, “If Greg can get a lady, then so can I!”
The day was looking more positive than I expected. Kevin was in a good mood, he was interacting with some of the other students, something at which he usually fails miserably.
The sun was beginning to shine more brightly the closer we got to Orcas Island. Maybe I had made the right decision bringing him up here after all. Pulling into the dock on the island, I asked Kevin for about the hundredth time, “So, do you think you might want to stay at the camp?” And, for about the hundredth time, he answered, “I don’t think so.”
After a couple of turns on the wrong roads, we finally arrived at Camp Orkila, parked next to a teacher’s car we recognized, then started down the path to the main lodge. As we stepped out of the woods and into a clearing, several buildings and the beach came into view. Kevin stopped suddenly, his eyes got wide, his face brightened into a broad smile, and all my talkative son could manage to say was, “Wow!”
The two of us took an unescorted tour around the camp, through a couple of cabins, and down to the beach, Kevin asking me questions such as, “Will I be able to read in bed?” and “What will they have to eat here?” Apparently satisfied with my answers and what he was seeing, Kevin then asked, “Did you bring my sleeping bag”? “Yes, it’s in the car,” I replied. “Great!” Kevin said, jumping up and down delightedly, “I want to stay!”
Bursting with pride at him getting over his fear, I took him with me to find the teacher with the clipboard, the person who could assign him to a cabin. We found her at the main lodge, where the kids were all seated cross-legged on the floor, listening to a talk on the rules and procedures. I signaled to Kevin to sit down with the other kids as I tapped the teacher on the shoulder and beckoned for her to step outside the door with me to talk.
“Hi,” I said, “I’m Kevin Syltebo’s mom. His teachers told me that we could come up here today and he could decide if he wanted to stay or not. He just told me that he does want to stay, so what do I need to do to get him into a cabin?”
Gripping her clipboard more tightly and talking in clipped tones, she replied, “I know that they told you that, but he can’t stay. I don’t have a place for him.”
Unbelievable! I drove all the way up there, against all odds Kevin decided that he did want to stay, and I was being told that he couldn’t. I got Kevin out of the lodge and shared the bad news with him, saying, “Kevin, I’m so sorry. It turns out that they don’t have room for you in any of the cabins, so you can’t stay after all.”
Fighting back tears, Kevin turned from me and stomped off angrily as I shot an accusing look back at the stoic teacher who was breaking my child’s heart. “I’ll never be happy again!” Kevin shouted at me over his shoulder, overcome with emotion. The overly dramatic statement might have been funny under different circumstances, but at that moment, I felt exactly as he did. Tears were burning my eyes as I followed him back to the car, trying to think through what I was going to say to him.
As we drove silently out of the camp, I looked at the clock and realized that we had three hours to kill before catching the return ferry to Anacortes. I didn’t want to spend all of that time parked in line, so asked, “Kevin, why don’t we drive into Eastsound and see if we can find a bookstore?” I knew that there was a good chance I could buy him out of his dark mood with at least one great book.
“Bookstore?” Kevin asked from the backseat, looking up for the first time since leaving the camp. I grinned, feeling smug at how well I knew my son. Nothing cheered Kevin up like a trip to a bookstore. After buying five new books at the quaint store we found, Kevin was his old cheerful self again, jabbering about the two of us taking a trip back to Orcas Island in the summer. “We’ll stay in a hotel,” he said, “not a camp”. “Good idea,” I replied.
“You know, Mom?” he said, “I liked Camp Orkila in the daytime, but tonight, when it gets dark and cold, I probably wouldn’t have liked it anymore, when I couldn’t read in bed”. “You’re right, Kevin,” I said, smiling into the rear view mirror at him. “I want you to know how proud I am of you, even though it didn’t work out today, that you went up there and decided that you were brave enough to stay”. “Thanks, Mom!”, he said happily going back to reading his new books, proud of his accomplishment and glad to be heading home to his own bed.
By Danna Syltebo
* Stories From the Heart is an ongoing series of user contributed heart warming stories, that shine light on the Autism experience.
