In the 16 years since my son was diagnosed with ASD, I have spent many hours in informal and informal settings where I have met other parents. No matter the event or the agenda, almost always there’s the opportunity hear a little about someone else’s experience. People have shared the solutions they have sought out, the situations that bring them joy and, more often, the challenges that bring them grief in their life with a child who is, to paraphrase Margaret Drabble (in “The Pure Gold Baby), “the apple of their eye, and the thorn in their heart”.
On every single one of those occasions, at some point I find myself encountering at least one parent whose concerns seem laughingly minor compared to what my family faces. And I have met at least one parent who faces a situation so profoundly difficult that the concerns I had been overwhelmed with suddenly seem trivial. And whichever way I look, whether I’m looking with jealousy or with compassion, I learn something about myself and the way I perceive and support my beloved son.
From the people who seem to have it so easy, I learn to question whether I’m settling too easily, if I’m failing to push my son enough, failing to set expectations highly enough. From the people who seem to be struggling, I receive a gentle reminder about the importance of occasionally celebrating what is good and strong in my life. In either case, I am forced me to re-calibrate my life, at least the large part of it that’s involved with developmental disabilities, in ways both small and large.
So as you attend yet another committee meeting or parent support group or workshop, I urge you to remember to look left, to those you might envy, and to look right, to those you might pity. Listen, and learn, and remember that wherever you are on the spectrum, there’s always someone beside you.
(A version of this was originally published in an issue of Autism Ontario's Autism Matters magazine.)
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