Musings and What-not

Labels, labels, labels! As a species, we label everything. We label people, things, and experiences. Maybe (or maybe not) that's just how life is in a world of polarities . But, labeling people can often cause pain, frustration, anger, and even, resentment.

I have cried enough tears to fill an ocean, sending myself into the deepest abyss, pondering... Will he be okay when I'm gone? I've spent so much time worrying and stressing about what will happen to him tomorrow that, at times, I have allowed precious moments of my today slip carelessly slip through my hands. Germany has its Autobahn... the road I travel has a beautiful yet mysterious companion that is Autism. My journey has been one of great fascination... and frustration. There have been many twists, turns, bumps, and detours along the way. One moment, I am cruising along at a comfortable speed, letting the wind caress my face, and in a flash, I encounter a pot hole that rattles me to the core.

Most of us on this path, the path of Autism, are quite familiar with the poem having to do with Holland.  Many of us may not have planned to give birth to Autism, but for reasons we may never fully know, Autism had plans for us. As parents to these children, are we to look at ourselves as being uber special in some way? Are we truly the Chosen Ones? Are we the only ones who were somehow more prepared than others to handle a life that would be altered in unimaginable ways?

A play on words from a popular movie... yet, there's a lot of  truth  to them.

Change  is inevitable. Every day, we change our minds; change lanes, and hopefully, our underwear too! But what matters most is how  present  and  ready  we are when these changes come about. Do we use these reminders as a means to appreciate where we are, or are we too caught up with no thoughts toward our actions?

I wasn't a subscriber to this fellow blogger 's site when the following comment was made by (38) Joan: I prayed before I ever had kids that god would give me children that have no mental or social problems. I believe that god ruined him. What if the best my child can do is work as a greeter at Wal-mart, how does one accept your child is doomed, ruined, a waste of human life? I just am begging someone to help me understand this. My initial feelings were those of pity for the child, not the mother.  However, as the words sank in, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her too.