I’m part of an autistic mom’s group, and the common message I’m seeing is how alone they are. So many people reject us and our children. So many people also pass judgement and give unwanted parenting advice. Even in public, I’ve heard people walk by and mutter something negative under their breath or give us a dirty look.

Please, when someone tells you their child is autistic, believe them. Don’t question the diagnosis and ask repeated questions what made them pursue a diagnosis. The reasons may be very personal and embarrassing for the child.

Don’t criticize, belittle, or project a very negative future for them. Please understand it is a spectrum, with varied symptoms, and no two children are alike.

Autistic children can be very verbal and make eye contact. Just because you know one child who is autistic doesn’t mean you know them all.

Don’t judge when a meltdown is occurring, when the child wants to touch everything, when the child gets overly emotional, or talks back.

Don’t say, this is what I would do, because often that applies to a neurotypical child.

I am not excusing bad behaviour. I am just trying to say that we have to do things differently for our children and it takes longer to do.

Just trying to educate everyone in this world as much as I can because it is a very misinformed and misunderstood diagnosis. Just offer a kind smile, word, or some encouragement if you can, because we need all the positive energy and love we can get. Doesn’t everybody?

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I told him my brother was a CGA. He smirked and said, “What happened to you?” I regret that I continued the date with him and several more, only to have him ultimately reject me in the end.

If someone doesn’t believe in you right from the start, believe that they don’t right from the start. Don’t waste your time thinking you can impress them, or that they even need to be impressed. Be with someone who thinks you’re awesome as soon as they lay eyes on you, who sees your strengths, talents, and passions glowing strong and does not focus on weaknesses or their own interests.

I regret wasting my time on these people. I should have just walked out the door. As Maya Angelou said, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” How many times do we need to hear this? How many times do we ignore that small voice within us that screams, “This is wrong!”

It’s not until you’re in a better place that you can look back and realize what a bad place you were in. Amazing how the trees can block our view from the forest. I’m older now. If only I knew this much younger but then I wouldn’t have all the treasures I have now by enduring these relationships, even though they were rocky, both personal and professional.

Life certainly is a learning experience, only for us to die after we’ve learned everything. But we can still pass along our wisdom and experience to our offspring, family, and friends. Keep being you, keep learning, keep helping others. Never stop, ever.

I watched a golden leaf loosen itself from a tree, its downward dance interrupted by a telephone wire. After resting there for a moment, it slipped off, gracefully falling onto the ground. I wondered how many other leaves made the same migration from sky to soil.

How many times do we stumble and have our fall broken by something in the way, letting us stop for a moment to ponder before our inevitable descent? This moment softens the plunge and makes it bearable, less painful, fragile bones are spared from breaking. I am so grateful for pauses like these.

Falling isn’t always a bad thing if we make it less about the fall and more about the journey. Sometimes we need to kiss the ground that supports us with its strength and solidness. We can lay there for a while and rest before getting back up, or even stay to help others who have fallen, just as the decaying leaves nourish the plants and trees that surround them.

The spot where you always laid down

is empty

empty as my heart

the groove of my stomach

that formed when I laid down on my side

and provided a nest for you to sleep

is now hollowed and barren

as is my soul

you would perch on the crook

of my bent legs

creating just enough room for

me to reach and stroke your head

My skin misses the frigid brush

of your wet nose against my face

awaking me each morning

All the parts of my body

that you once touched

ache

for where you once were

Now your memory only exists in the warm and cool breezes

that blow through the trees,

that caress me when someone walks by

Touch is how I welcomed you

Touch is how we departed

The sense of touch is gone. Except for the winds of memory. We only have memories to rely on. No words, no conversations, no music. I remember your touch the most.