This life has an annoying way of simultaneously providing the inspiration for writing and denying any possible chance to write.
As a parent of a child with autism, I am shy to admit that I don’t read too many posts about autism – not anymore. When we first got our son’s diagnosis, I went full-steam into research, support groups, list-serves, conferences, books, blogs and anything else I could get my hands on. I tried to become an expert about many things related to autism in my attempt to understand my child, his potential for the future and our best chances for coping with and embracing his unique set of challenges.
But after awhile, I felt like I had heard it all, or I just got tired of living my life around autism 24/7. Many of the articles that come across my desktop now only receive a cursory glance. One post a few months back, though, happened to grab me at a rare free moment. I came across one of Tom Fields-Meyer‘s beautiful essays about his experiences raising his son – a teenager who has so many similarities to my kid that I found the piece at once reassuring and unsettling.
Hidden among the comments from other parents and professionals praising Fields-Meyer for his engaging and insightful glimpse into the life of parenting a child with autism was this little note: “After article after article about autisium [sic], its like articles on writing a resume—ENOUGH”