Unusual Reactions

Being the parent of an autistic child can make you look like a weirdo to a stranger. Who else would be sobbing at the intermission of The Music Man? I've seen The Music Man quite a few times, but not since I have become a parent. Seeing shy Winthrop break into song about the Wells Fargo Wagon brought me to tears in seconds. In that little boy, I saw my own little boy with his own communication problems. No, it's not like trying to overcome a lisp, but he's just about as uncommunicative as Winthop - only really answers questions that are directed to him, and most of the time, those questions have to be yes/no. I was crying for the day when my son would be able to come home from school and excitedly burst into telling me about every minute of his day. I was crying for the day when my son would be able to tell me what he wants for Christmas and what he wants to be for Halloween. I was crying for the day when my son would be able to say a sincere prayer from his heart.

Those days will come, I tell myself. Those days will come. In the meantime, I will try to remember that there are glimmers of the future - one that happened last night. As I was putting Darin to bed, he developed hiccups. It didn't really bother him and we went about his routine as usual. A few hours later, he came downstairs to excitedly exclaim, "Mommy! My hiccups are gone!" Thanks for the update, Darin, and thanks for Mommy's moment of joy.