silentlyscreaming's Xombytes

What's it like to raise a child with autism?

In the years following my son's diagnosis, I have often been asked that very question. For a while I was at a loss as to how to describe the life I had been forced, by chance, to lead. Then, one day, while talking with a friend about a trip I had taken to Montreal,as a teenager, it clicked. I was in a country where I didn't always speak the language.

Have you found yourself a few pounds heavier after hibernating all winter? Did the joys and comfort of comfort food add some padding in some places you didn't want quite so heavily padded? Are you finally ready to begin the excercise program that was part of your new year's resolutions? From January 2005, that is? If, like me, you really aren't all that fond of the knee pain that can come along with jogging and running, then I may just have the solution for you. Let me introduce you to the stationary bike.

Summer.... A time to soak up some rays (don't forget the sunscreen!), enjoy a tall glass of iced tea and tackle some of those projects around the house. For the kids, it's a chance to stay up late, sleep until noon and forget the daily grind of school. Summer break is grand, it's fun and a chance to just vegetate. Then, the second week of summer break comes along and the inevitable, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do.", chant begins. Unfortunately, with the soaring price of gas and stagnant wages, summer getaways are becoming harder to accomplish. So, what can be done to help alleviate some of the general boredom that is bound to come up from time to time this summer? Here's a few ideas to get the ball rolling........

Dear Me, July 2, 2003

I was sorry to hear about your son. Autism?! What a blow that must have been. I know right now you are having a tough time adjusting and accepting the news. Wow, I just can't believe it. Your son seems so normal, maybe a little eccentric, but hey we all have our own little idiosyncrasies. Don't we?

"You have to face life to live life." Of all the phrases said to me over the course of my life, nothing has been more true than those eight words.

We all have our battles that must be faced, some are of our own doing and some just pure happenstance. They are the consequences of some mistake that we made or they may be due to some doing on the part of another or they may be the result of something that just happens. In the end it doesn't really matter because we have a war that must be waged within ourselves. It is only through facing what comes our way that one can truly live.

This was written at a time when I felt alone, hopeless, and let's face it, I was depressed. I was about 15 years old when it was written and like all of the items I wrote at that time, I tucked it away, safely hidden from the prying eyes of parents and siblings. While going through some various items at my parents house, I came across the box. This was the box that contained my feelings and emotions for so many years. In an essence, the box was me. The real me. Not the fraudulent me that those around me had come to know.I was never very good at expressing myself through spoken word, so it all went down on paper.

There's just something about salsa that makes me positively giddy. I've always been a chips and salsa type of girl but can't stand the flavor of store bought salsa. Nothing can compare to the taste of fresh, homemade salsa. My favorite little hole in the wall, family owned Mexican Restaurant has the best salsa I've ever had the pleasure of placing upon my taste buds. After years of frequenting this place and many oohs and aahs later, I finally worked up the courage to ask for the recipe. It was a case of ask and you shall receive. So, without further ado, I'm going to share the recipe with you.

Gone.....
The child was gone.

It was just like any other day,
the little girl had gone out to play.
Six years old,
lost and forlorn.
Mom was an alcoholic,
dad was unknown,
baby brother, two years ago

I wrote this when a friend confessed to me that she had been a victim of child sex abuse. It is truly one of the darkest things I've ever written. While the ending is a complete figment of my own imagination, upon reading it, she confided that it was cathartic. I warn you, it's not a pleasant read, but having been abused myself, physical not sexual, I found that I could place myself in her body to some degree and my emotions at times are mirror images of her own.

It finally happened. The death of a celebrity moved me beyond the usual, "That's sad news."

Over the years, Carlin has been in my home more often than numerous relatives and friends. He never made it in person, but visited again and again via HBO, records, books, vhs tapes and dvd's. He was an old friend of sorts. We go back way back, about 24 years, truth be told. Our first meeting occurred on a cool autumn evening in 1984.