Send by Margaret to our mailbox. Every day with my son, who has autism, unfolds like a vivid exploration into a world rich with unseen hues and textures. It's akin to painting on an expansive canvas, revealing colors that others might overlook but which shimmer vibrantly to us. From the crack of dawn, we embark on a meticulously choreographed routine designed to honor his profound need for predictability and serenity.
Mornings in our household are gently ushered in by the soft strains of classical music, taking the place of jarring alarm clocks that disrupt his peace. Breakfast transcends being a mere meal; it's a cherished ritual to fortify our bond and mentally prepare him for the day's adventures. We share this time in a cocoon of quietude, the room drenched in soft, natural light to counteract the harsh, unsettling glare of fluorescent lighting.
Communication with my son is a delicate ballet of patience and intuition. Verbal exchanges are sparse, as he expresses himself through a tapestry of gestures and facial expressions instead. On days when the world overwhelms him, he might retreat into hand flapping or avert his gaze. Over time, I've attuned myself to these subtle cues, providing the solace or space he seeks without needing words to bridge our understanding.
The challenges escalate once we step outside our sanctuary for school. I maintain an ongoing partnership with his educators, ensuring they grasp his unique ways of interacting with the world. His classroom experience is tailored with visual schedules and timely breaks to mitigate sensory overload. This dynamic requires constant adaptation as his needs evolve with time.
Our afternoons are dedicated to structured play, which provides him both comfort and stimulation. We have an assortment of sensory toys from which he can choose, each offering different textures and challenges. While some days he finds solace in the familiarity of repetitive motions, other times he's drawn to puzzles that stretch his cognitive abilities and spark his curiosity.
Evenings often prove the most daunting, as the day's accumulated fatigue begins to erode his defenses against an ill-fitting world. In response, we dim the lights and I immerse him in stories from books adorned with bold, clear illustrations and minimal text—each narrative a soothing lullaby in visual form. Bedtime is more than a conclusion to the day; it's a reaffirmation of our rituals and a restorative retreat into a world of comforting repetition.
Throughout this journey, my admiration and love for him only deepen. To the outer world, he might appear simply as a child with autism, but to me, he is nothing less than a courageous hero—bravely navigating a world not made for him, demonstrating a resilience that not only inspires but also reshapes how I perceive life's challenges. Each day with him is a lesson in strength, a testament to the unyielding power of love and understanding.