A Promise To Figure It Out Together – Finding Cooper’s Voice

Today was one of those days.

One where you seemed confused by the world. One where I didn’t know how to help. Or fix it.

Woven into everything you do. Into the way you think and see and react.

Only I can’t see what you see. Or hear what you hear. Or feel what you feel.

Today, when I got the call to pick you up from school, I felt confused.

A hard day. I’ll never know why.

But with you, the stakes feel a bit higher. The rules a bit more confusing.

You have your own beautiful ways of communicating. And sharing your color with the world.

You keep me on my toes. Ever changing. Ever amazing.

And I am your constant. Walking alongside you everywhere we go. Holding hands. Taking our time. Not allowing anyone to rush us.

Often communicating for you. Encouraging. Knowing that you are more. And demanding the world know the same.

But today. Today was hard. One of those mornings that reminds me that autism touches so many parts of you. And always will.

I felt like a stranger peeking into your world. Expected to know what to do and say. But not understanding why. People looking to me to make it make sense. Only I couldn’t.

Why you react the way you do.

The silly. The impulsivity. The intensity.

We had some of the parts of disability that I don’t talk about very often.

After, when it was over, I felt exhausted.

You came to me with your speech device.

You looked at me. Eyes big. Cheeks still flushed.

I. Am. Sorry.

I. Am. Sorry.

And then that smile. The best one.

I felt sad. That the world is so confusing for you. And that as your mom, I don’t always understand.

‘I am sorry too buddy,’ I said.

I don’t always understand autism. I probably never will. And I am guessing my son will probably never fully understand this world either.

But together. We are figuring it out.

A promise to figure it out together.