Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Rolling Downhill

Collin and I visited Daddy joined Chris for lunch at work.

As a parent of an autism spectrum child, I've learned life is quiet frequently a roller coaster. Just when you think the ride is easy, you hit a sudden drop. We've had weeks of blissful behavior. Successful play dates. Stellar report card. Pleasant demeanor. Even in the midst of the delightful, I fully anticipated life would not continue in such a copacetic fashion. We were bound to hit a bump or two.

Tonight, we seemed to have derailed. My spectrum kiddo crumbled. He wrestled some formidable foes, anxiety being his fiercest opponent. I stood on the sideline, helpless to break the bonds that pulled him under.

By the end of the night, I sat on his bed, tears running down my cheeks. He buried his head under a blanket, and wrapped his body tightly around the covers. I stroked his back, and said his bedtime prayers. I uttered the only thing I can say sometimes, "Help him." Then, I turned out his light.

I exited the room and whispered one last prayer, "Help me understand."

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