Sally's love, light, and inspiration for her beautiful poems....Dhylan
How do I spell
A.U.T.I.S.M. ?
A
I have to say the first emotion I felt was Anger, I was angry
that this
had happened to me,I had been so careful,
I made an appointment with my doctor, when I was barely a month
along,
I took good care of myself, I ate well,
and didn't abuse my body with drugs or alchohol, or smoking.
I felt such rage at first, this was not fair,
some women neglected themselves, and didnt care for the child
inside,
and their child was perfect. Why not mine?
U
Unbelief..... denial...........you name it, I felt it. This was
not
happening to me, I would wake up in the night, and it would hit
me, my
child has autism, and then I would plug my ears, trying to stop
the
voices in my head, I would bury my head in the pillow, refusing
to
believe this was happening to us. It took me a long time to let
it sink
in, and to this day, I sometimes forget, and then the realization
hits
me, and it knocks me to my knees again. It takes all my strength
to get
up. But I do, because I have to, I have to be there for my child.
T
Of course the tears, tears of rage, panic, frustration. Gut
wrenching
tears in the middle of the night, somehow it always seems worse
in the
night. The house is quiet at last, and there is time to think, to
ponder, to pray. Tears though are such a relief, without their
outlet, I
would have gone crazy. But, I have held them back so many times,
in a
store when someone makes a cruel remark,
or a child who approaches mine, then backs off with that 'look'
on his face.
I refuse to cry then, because I still have my pride, and it
although it
is tattered, I cling to it like a security blanket.
I
Isolation, oh yes, the isolation. Friends seemed to disapear into
thin
air, when they found out.
Sometimes I wanted to scream "It's not catching, " but
they wouldnt hear
me, they were too busy keeping their child away from mine. The
phone
stopped ringing too, and people would turn away at Church, avert
their
eyes when my child had a tantrum. The isolation is the hardest
thing.......... being alone hurts. At the time in my life when I
needed
friends and family the most, the pain of them looking the other
way, was
indescribable. But I have found friends, people who know the path
I
take, for it is their journey too. For this blessing I am so
grateful.
These are the true friends, the ones who are there for me, when
life is
unbearable.
S
Sadness and Solace, I have felt the sadness of knowing my child
will not
be like other children, I have wept many tears for him. I have
spent my
waking hours, and sleepless nights worrying about his future, who
will
care for him, what kind of adult will he be? Will someone be
there for
him, when I am gone? There is such pain in not knowing, there is
nothing
so hard for a parent, than realizing that one day, you will not
be there
to take care of your child. And knowing that this child will
always need
your care. But there is Solace too, and I have felt this peace,
I have learned to accept this Autism, I cannot erase it,
nor will I embrace it. But I have come to a feeling of peace, and
I go on.
M
Mercy and Magic, Have mercy on me, It's so hard to raise a child
when
others look on, and instead of holding out a hand to help, they
stand in
judgement. Don't judge me, when my child acts out, when he
screams
because something has changed in his environment, he doesnt do it
purposefully, he is only reacting to his feelings. I am a good
mother, I
love my child like you love yours, I want the best for him, yet I
cannot
give in to him. He looks to me and I must teach him,
just as you teach your child. I may do it differently,
because my child is different. He learns in his own way,
and I have to teach him in a way that to others may seem odd, or
unusual.
Magic? Oh yes, there is magic. I have seen my child blossom, I
have
seen him learn, I have watched his wonder, and rejoiced in his
small
steps. His smile is magic, and his heart is gold.
I did not choose this journey, but somehow it is mine, and I must
see the
roses, as I walk upon the rocky pathway. I did not ask for this,
but it
was given to me, and I must be strong enough to bear it. If I
cannot,
then I am lost, if I give up, who will take my place?
There is enough joy, if I look for it....... it will find me.
c. Sally Meyer 1999
| Seeking If God can love the sparrow enough to care when it falls. I am sure He loves me and my little child. If He can search for the lost lamb out of the hundred. I know He will find me and my little lamb. If He can part the sea and make the world. Then I know that He will hear my voice above the rest. When I call out His name for help. If I can seek as often as He does. I will not be lost, nor will I fear. for, it was His hands who made this little child. This is His little sparrow, and His lost lamb, He trusted me to take this little child. To hold him, to teach him, and to return him safely home. I know that I will not fail Him. For like that sparrow and that wandering lamb, we are His creation and every day when the sun sets over us all. He counts us all and rejoices in His creations. Autism is not the end of the World. . . . just the beginning of a new one. copyright. 1999. Sally Meyer |
The man behind
the desk. It's cold in here, the room dark mahogany paneling, books, and diplomas. The man behind the desk his words will change my life forever. There are no flowers to give me hope, no solace here, no comforting arms, just silence, and I wait. For the man behind the desk. . . . In his hands he holds a pen, not a pen like I use, ten for a dollar at the discount store. His pen is gold, engraved, given to him by an esteemed colleague, long ago. The clock ticks behind him, as he studies the papers, squiggles, and notations that he put down, during this long hour. My son's cries echo in the hallway, and I want to run to him, scoop him up take him from here, deliver him from his fate. But I sit and wait, for that word, I need that word, from his lips, my own are not enough, He doesnt know it, but I know already, he is reluctant to say it, to speak that word, for fear he will break my heart, No! my heart was broken long before I carried my son in here, to speak to this man, who taps his pen, and ruminates and hesitates to speak. I have stayed awake endless nights, sitting in a chair, reading by lamplight through books and books, turning pages splotched with tears, I understand, I know what this man behind the desk will say. He is a fool to think I would come here unprepared, I can tell him all he wants to know, but I must go to him for he is a doctor, and he has studied, so I, a mother must put my son, in his care, look to him for that which I already have wept over, in dark of night, looking through the window at the moon, wondering why, and how? my tears have blended with the falling rain, and grief has been hard won. But now he speaks, and the silence surrounds the room I hear a plaintive cry in the hallway, and ignoring it I listen, and hearing that word Autism I smile, and shaking the hand of the man behind the desk I walk out of the mahogany torture chamber, scoop up my child, and walk away. I will not cry here, no, rather I will wait until the night comes, and sitting in my chair in the lamplight I will hold my child, as he sleeps, caress him with my tears, and begin the journey, the one I started a year ago. c. Sally Meyer 1999 While he is sleeping |
