Baggage

Being a Dad with a son on the spectrum can come with some baggage. 

There's always something inside you that asks the question, where did this disorder come from?

You start to look at yourself and your family history and naturally begin to ask questions.

You look for clues and symptoms. You start to wonder whats personality and whats neurological. Whats a talent and whats an obsession?

I'll admit I don't like change, I become un-naturally anxious in new situations, I like knowing whats going to happen next,  I like to go back to the car and check to see if it's locked. I always like to know where my car keys are. I can remember every detail of every house I ever lived in. I find it hard to filter out noise and often find crowds suffocating. I can become completely obsessed with tastes, sounds, textures and I have never forgotten a joke.

Perhaps I'm on the spectrum, maybe we all are in some way.

I've been with my son today.

He's been courteous and kind. I've over heard him encouraging his sister. I've seen him invite a stranger, a handicapped boy into his room to play. I watched him play air guitar in the mirror. I've heard him ask really clever questions. I've seen him be compassionate and mischievous. I've watched him demonstrate grace and love. I've seen him be playful and confident and I've watched being a boy.

I've just been on the porch watching the fantails. I had a thought. Maybe some off the good things about my boy are hereditary as well.