It’s my boys’ third birthday today and it’s time for me to
write my letter to both of them and let them know just how amazing they both
are and what I have learned from them this year.
Nolan – my sweet amazing survivor. This past year the word
autism came into our vocabulary. At first I was advised that you were “at risk
for autism” and through a number of appointments, evaluations, questions that
was changed to a full diagnosis of autism in May. One of the hardest things for
me in this process was to talk about what you could not or did not do. That was
the absolute opposite of how I choose to see our lives, your life. I choose to
live life in the terms of what you can do, what you have overcome and just how
accomplished, bright and sparkly you are.
And - being the mother I also know that the world, as it is now, needs
that diagnosis so that I can get the extra support, guidance and love you
deserve to help you to become the amazing person you already are. So I allow
the diagnosis but I will never allow it to discount you, your abilities and
your light. I have seen you grow in your understanding of the rules of the
world as you gain more experience and trust in this place you have landed for
this lifetime. I have watched you reach out to your teachers and therapists and
have seen their eyes light up with excitement and joy at your continued growth
and development. Your smile sets hearts afire, truly it does. I have seen it. I
have felt it. You started preschool this year. You started playing on playground equipment. You went down the slide! Your future is unbound, full potential, joy, excitement, growth
and success. This I know to be true. I promise you that anyone who knows you or
knows of you will also know that this path that you are on has an ending that
is beyond anything we can imagine. I love you my beautiful boy.
Birthday morning before school.
Eli – my shining star. First I must say that I know you are
close to us. I know that you hear and see Nolan when he looks at your picture
and says “E”, or when he sings “Eli, Eli, Eli” for no apparent reason. I know
you are the reason and you are very apparent to me. In February John left this
earth unexpectedly too. I know that you were there to meet him after he
transitioned. The two of you are connected in my heart. Please tell him I love
him and give him a hug from Nolan and I. It has been the through the wisdom
that I have gained in being your mother that I have the understanding to offer
support to my clients who are looking for connection with their loved ones who
have transitioned. It is the depths of my grief over your death that has opened
me up and allowed me to support others in the depths of their grief. I have
seen your hello’s to me in the Eli skies; the sunlight streaming through the
clouds in lines of light, numerous times this past year. I finally received the
Molly Bear I requested in your honor. He is beautiful and brings a smile to my
face. Also, finally, I put together and ordered your memory book from
Shutterfly. I smiled and cried as I created it. I smiled and cried when I
opened it. I smile and cry when I remember you. I love you my sweet son. I miss
you. I know that I will see you again and until then I promise to continue to
care for your brother to the best of my ability and to use the love I have for
you to help and love others. Happy birthday my Eli.
Nolan kissing our Eli Bear. He has just started doing this recently.
