There are times in life when you jump feet first into the unknown because the building behind you is burning and a leap of faith is the only way out.
I took that leap, threw security to the wind, and prayed that everything would work out. In the meantime, my son is left to struggle with all the changes. His father moved away recently, I took a new job, and had to cut his ABA therapy in half which meant saying goodbye to one of his therapists. Change is hard for kids, but it’s hell for a child with sensory processing disorder, ADHD, and autism. As a result, he’s been more difficult than usual lately (a 15 on a scale of 1 to 10). Yesterday I finally reached a breaking point with his demands and said:
“Does everything with you have to be a fight?”
To which he said:
“Not love, Mama.”
I stopped what I was doing and went over to where he stood, brushing my lips against his chubby cheek, and squeezing his shoulders. It was a sweet, innocent moment that made the misery of our situation evaporate for a bit.
I’d like to think there’s a higher power who inspired my son to say that when I needed to hear something positive so badly. I fight against the disease known as autism. I can’t help it. Fighting is in my DNA, but I’m wrong to do so. One thing I’ve learned in these very long four years–acceptance is sometimes your greatest weapon.
Let go. Love. And accept.
Because some things just are.