Published on the Liahona Project, link here I took my oldest son back-to-school shopping the other day. It was.... awesome. sad. exciting. funny. inspiring. surprising. mama-heartbreaking. Big Brother was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome in 2009, when he was eight years old. It was years of evaluations and developmental preschools and speech therapists. Years of teachers bringing their concerns to me and me taking those concerns to doctors and, and, and... years of misdiagnoses. It was years of meltdowns and vomiting and aggression and wondering feet, running feet and hearing him say things like "I'm a bad son. I'm going to let a car hit me," as those feet took him out the front door. And then that moment, that singular sentence, "Your son is on the spectrum," that changed everything, that changed nothing. That bitter-sweet recognition that he was, in fact, atypical. And we've had years in between that the...
"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye." -Antoine Saint-Exupéry