Priceless Childhood Memories
#AspergersSyndrome
In my Father’s Image
Recently, my son became very ill, and as the doctors asked me about our family health history, I found myself becoming angry again at my ex-husband. The anger wasn’t because he deserted me and his children (though I find that seeping back in once in a while); the anger was due to how he left us. He made it impossible for me to ever find out if the symptoms my son is having could be related back to his family history; therefore, there is this big unknown part of my children’s history that I would like to access, so I can help them be healthy for themselves and for their future children.
I took this photo of my son and husband (at the time) right after my father’s funeral. My husband said that my losing my father reminded him of how quickly time passes and the importance of cherishing every precious moment we have with our children. The portrait symbolized to me the relationship between a parent and their child and how important it is, as parents, to guide our children to the future that is waiting for them. I never thought that my own husband would disregard the gift’s God has bestowed upon us. I no longer try to understand what made my husband do the things he did, as it is out of my control and is time wasted. Yet, inexcusably I still witness daily the internal pain and damage he left behind. I always thought that maybe he was too damaged from his own childhood to ever be a parent, but three years after deserting his own children, he had another one.
It may seem cruel, but I sometimes view my ex as created in Hitler’s (interesting enough, he liked his employees to call him that) image because when our marriage became the darkest is when he could not handle his youngest son (in this photo) being different from other children. I’ve mentioned in my blog before that my son has Asperger’s Syndrome, and my ex-husband had no patience or empathy for the symptoms that developed from my son’s diagnosis. I almost think that he kept having children until he could create the perfect specimen of himself. My heart aches for his new child that he had with his new wife, and I pray for the innocent boy’s safety every day.
This photo has been hidden in the back of my closet for years in fear of it bringing back the pain of the past for my children. However, this week as I have been filling out medical forms for specialists for my beautiful, kind-hearted son, I looked back at this portrait and realize that it doesn’t have to represent the father that walked away, but it reminds me of the characteristics my son shares with his maternal grandfather that I sadly lost that Thanksgiving week in 2000. My son grew up not having the guidance of either a father or a grandfather, but I have kept my father’s image alive within my son, by sharing his stories, his morals, his ethics, his love, and so on. As I look into my son’s eyes, the eyes that trust that I will find him the best care and answers this week, I see my father’s soul looking back at me. My son may have been born from a man who has no soul, but that doesn’t mean that’s how my son’s story ends.
My son has a heart of gold and carries his grandfather Jim’s heart and soul with him everywhere (that is what I see in this portrait now), and as long as I bring him up with wonderful people surrounding him that also share those similar ethics, morals, and love, my child will take that into his future and it will continue to touch the ones fortunate enough to come into his life. I will never be convinced that blood defines a family, but instead family is defined by the incredible people who lift us up and encourage us to live each day being better than we were the day before.
See the whole person, not the label
This past week, my children and I presented research on Asperger’s Syndrome at the university that I attend. I also presented last year, so this wasn’t a new experience for me, but it was for my children. They are only 20 and 17. My daughter attends college with me, but my son is a high school student and consequently happens to have a diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome.
Our journey navigating the school system, and just society in general, has been a long, difficult road; therefore, for him to stand up in front of all these people (and to step out of his comfort zone), and not only talk on the subject, but to share his deepest thoughts, was the most amazing, brave thing I have ever witnessed. When I grow up, I want to be just like my kids. They are determined to bring awareness to the subject, so that they can hopefully decrease stigmatism.
At the end of our presentation, my son stood up in front of the room and read the following poem that he wrote. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when he finished. His honesty as he read his words was inspirational. I asked him today if I could share his words on my blog and he said of course. For years, educators have told me that I had unrealistic expectations for my son. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to them. Never let others tell you that you can’t do anything. Only we know what we are truly capable of.
See the whole person, not the label
What is Asperger’s Syndrome?
Mental Illness? I think not.
How does someone get Asperger’s Syndrome?
A gift given to children through birth or heredity.
Mental Illness. I think not.
I am different; I am socially awkward.
A gift given to children through birth or heredity.
I don’t have a clue.
I am different; I am socially awkward.
I have significantly increased intelligence.
I don’t have a clue.
I have sporadic, hyperactive behavior.
I have significantly increased intelligence.
I am socially awkward.
I have sporadic, hyperactive behavior.
I grasp academics slower than others.
I am socially awkward.
I do not like being labeled.
I grasp academics slower than others.
I feel like another product on a conveyor belt.
I do not like being labeled.
Others see me as indistinguishable from other people with the same label.
I feel like another product on a conveyor belt.
Quit putting me in a category.
Others see me as indistinguishable from other people with the same label.
I am a loyal and generous person.
Quit putting me in a category.
I am fun, outgoing, and energetic.
I am a loyal and generous person.
In the future, I would not want people to know I have Asperger’s Syndrome.
I am fun, outgoing, and energetic.
Asperger’s Syndrome does not define me.
In the future, I would not want people to know I have Asperger’s Syndrome.
The early years of my life, they held me back.
Asperger’s Syndrome does not define me.
Over the years, I learned social cues, behaviors, rules, respect….things that come easier to normal children
The early years of my life, they held me back.
Teachers put no effort into providing the education I deserve.
Over the years, I learned social cues, behaviors, rules, respect….things that come easier to normal children
Teachers put me in a box and never try to approach my learning in a different way.
Teachers put no effort into providing the education I deserve.
I feel judged. I feel isolated. I feel helpless.
Teachers put me in a box and never try to approach my learning in a different way.
My teacher’s motto “I can’t drop everything to focus on your problem”
I feel judged. I feel isolated. I feel helpless.
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
My teacher’s motto “I can’t drop everything to focus on your problem”
Ignore the label and treat me like a human being; a human being who is effected by your judgment.
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
How does someone get Asperger’s Syndrome?
Ignore the label and treat me like a human being; a human being who is effected by your judgment.
What is Asperger’s Syndrome?
– By D. G. @2014
Happy Mother’s Day: A gift for my children
I can’t help on Mother’s Day to reflect back on my life as a mom. I see all of the messages on the internet to the best moms ever. Can we all be the best moms ever? With all of the dysfunction in the world, do people really believe this? I know I do. I think moms get a bad rap. If a child messes up, the mom is always at fault. I never hear in a news story, what kind of dad did they have? Yes, today we celebrate the moms in the world, but it seems the rest of the days in the year, we blame them for everything that goes wrong.
I know I live with my own guilt as a mom for the mistakes I made as my children were growing up. I have “two” amazing children. Everyone is always complementing me on what a great mom I am because of my “two” special children. But I always wonder if my daughter and son are a reflection of my parenting than what kind of parent do others think I am when they learn I have a third child? He hasn’t spoke to me in over a year and continuously blames me for everything wrong in his life. Even though, his father was abusive and I fought to get us away from him, his dad is who he wants in his life. This torments me daily. No matter how many successes I achieve, it’s always in the back of my mind, is my older son right about me? Am I the terrible person he says I am? Am I a failure as a parent or the wonderful parent my other two children say I am?
Recently, I was given a glimpse into my ex-husband’s new life. He’s remarried with a one-year old son, and has three thriving businesses. He’s the toast of his new town. Since he left, all of his professional dreams have come true; maybe even his personal ones. It’s been seven years since I filed for a restraining order, and I too, have had my own successes. I was awarded 100% custody and have gone on to receive not one, but two Bachelor’s degrees and a minor, and in a few weeks will have my Master’s degree, and in the fall will begin my doctoral program. I have watched my two younger children grow into amazing, thriving, independent, loving young adults. We have lived in sketchy places and had to scrape every dollar together to survive, but we have done it all while at the same time trying to be the best, honest persons we can be.
So if my ex and I have managed to be happier apart, maybe the common variable in the equation of our destruction was me? That scenario plays in my head daily; after all, my older son still blames me for the demise of our family. But for the first time, I decided to use my critical thinking skills I acquired in college. I decided to trace the paths of my ex and myself since we split away. My path has been hard work and hard choices. I have worked as hard as I could to make a better life for me and my kids. Being their sole parent, I strive to be the best role model I can; not only have I worked to be an advocate for people in domestic violence situations, but an advocate for children with Asperger’s Syndrome. It’s been a rough seven years, and it may be another three or four before I receive my doctorate, but I can say I traveled this path with my head held high and without hurting others in order to travel down it. I have actually tried my best to uplift others along the way. My journey wouldn’t hold as much value if I wasn’t striving to pay it forward as I headed down it.
As for my ex, he continues to avoid his financial responsibilities he left behind, and may be in his one son’s life, but he has moved on as if the other two children never existed. He has lied to his current business partners and community about his true identity and the path of destruction he left behind along with the mounds of debt. He even attempted to file bankruptcy on child support and alimony. He has all of his businesses in other people’s names, so that he doesn’t have to pay more for his children he deserted. He even lied to the judge and said he was dying of Colon Cancer. He’s committed tax and bankruptcy fraud; yet, no one calls him out on his bad deeds. He may seem professionally and personally like he has it all, but I have to wonder if he lies asleep at night wondering if he will ever be found out. What if his one-year old son finds out that he has a long lost brother and sister? What will he tell him? I doubt it will be the truth. He doesn’t know what the truth looks like. He is known in his community to be this incredible engineer and fabricator; yet, he never went to college nor graduated from high school. I am not putting him down for not going to college; I married him knowing that. What I hate is how he lies about who he is. What if his designs that people are buying, due to his engineering background, are faulty? Who takes the fall for that? Him? Or his business partners who have taken all the financial risk and have staked their reputations on his background that they never checked into? If his past speaks for itself, he won’t stick around to be accountable.
The best part of my look into my past, is that yes, it’s been a tough seven years, but I can sleep at night. I know that I am a good person, not a perfect person, but a good person. I no longer have to look over my shoulder due to his abuse and lies. I decided to take another path; yet, seeing who he is now, I know that his character and moral values have stayed the same. I am grateful to be free of him; I am grateful two of my children are safe from him as well. Yet, should I still beat myself up for the 24 year old son who chooses my ex over me? I would be lying if I didn’t say I miss my son and am hurt by it, but on the other hand, how long do we let others punish us for decisions we made years ago? I didn’t know his dad was an abuser when I met him or I wouldn’t have married him. Do I think it affected how good a mother I was at the time? Most definitely. Did I continue to be that person and bury my head in the sand after leaving his father? No! I left and I fought for three years to keep my kids safe.
I have worked extremely hard to build a life built on ethics and love. I have been in counseling with my children and apologized for not leaving sooner. I will be haunted by the memories of that man forever, but I am proud that I took a stand and left. We have struggled to make ends meet, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel and am grateful for the friends I have made along the way. I am proud of the woman/mom I have become and have decided today is the day that I give myself a Mother’s Day present – that present is forgiveness and permission to start this day and every day after, loving myself for the woman I am and finally walking away from the woman I was in my marriage. She no longer exists. If my oldest son cannot move into the future with the woman I have worked, long and hard, to become, and let go of the woman I was then, he will have to deal with that. I know my truth and am proud of who I am. I will always love my oldest son, but I cannot ever allow abuse and degradation ever back into my life, so until he can do that too, I will have to love him from afar. Today is the day that I love myself, forgive myself, shut the door on the past, and embrace the new life that awaits; my children deserve it, my friends and family who have supported me deserve it, and last, but not least, I deserve it! Happy Mother’s Day to the woman I am and to the children who have been waiting patiently for this day – I love you – always and forever!
Don’t forget your blue today!
I know Asperger’s????
“I know Asperger’s, my friend has a child with Asperger’s Syndrome” are usually the words I hear when I tell my friends my son was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome six years ago. Other words I hear are from friends who have a child with the same diagnosis, and who believe since our kids have the same diagnosis that our kids are the same person, will be “are you sure your son has Asperger’s Syndrome, my child doesn’t do that.” This can be very frustrating for me when my passion is to bring awareness to the subject, but a wise person once told me “at least they are talking about it.”
Does having a child with Asperger’s Syndrome make me an expert on the subject? According to my son, he isn’t even an expert on the subject. All it means is that I am an expert on my son who happens to have Asperger’s Syndrome, and even then, I am a secondary authority because he is the primary expert regarding himself.
What I can say is that according to the Center for Disease Control, Asperger’s Syndrome (AS) can be identified by the onset of non-verbal behaviors, and it distinguishes itself by an individual’s lack of eye contact, lack of facial expression, and peculiar body postures. The diagnosis itself is based on a list of symptoms (listed in the previous Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM IV-TR): impairment in social interaction, repetitive and restrictive stereotyped patterns of behavior, activities, and interests, significant social and occupational impairments, and delays in language; these impairments can lead to difficulties in making friends, having an awareness of non-verbal social cues, poor motor skills, narrow areas of interest, inflexibility in regards to changes in routine, and an inability to understand another person’s perspective. Other issues can be having a lack of direction, problems with loud noises and with large crowds.
The list can go on even more, so what if I had ten, male 17-year olds with Asperger’s Syndrome stand next to each other in a room – I highly doubt one of them would be the same. That would be like hanging ten of Van Gogh’s masterpieces next to each other on the wall and saying they were the same. They may be from the Post-impressionist era, they may all be from the same artist, and they may have similarities; but in the end, they will all touch us in a completely different way; therefore, I also see my son as a masterpiece and would never begin to lump him in with another person, nor would I want another mother to feel she needed to lump her child in with mine.
Instead of pulling apart a person with Asperger’s Syndrome to analyze what may be wrong with them, I wish more people would stop and look at everything that is amazing about them. Once we lift our children up and focus on their strengths, only then will they have the chance to soar and have the incredible life they were destined for.
For example, two years ago, my son decided he wanted to be a chef. This may not seem that unusual, but in his world it is. He doesn’t especially like food, or rather the taste of food. Since he was little, his taste buds were on sensory overload. His pediatrician had a great analogy; food is to his taste buds as extremely loud sounds are to eardrums. This has made it very hard for him to enjoy food or rather a wide selection of food; he tends to keep his selections to pork, chicken, fruits, and so on. He does not like if condiments are added to his food; a little ketchup to him is like pouring hot sauce on someone else’s tongue.
Despite his food issues, he is fascinated with cooking and loves to create new dishes. When he talks about culinary school, I always ask how he would get through it since he doesn’t like to taste his own creations. He quickly states, “That’s what taste testers are for.” To prove his culinary skills to me, he told me he was going to a friend’s house to create a dinner designed around my favorites. Not wanting to ever stand in his way, I agreed to come to his special dinner that night. When my daughter and I arrived, anticipating a delicacy of my favorite foods, I was not ready for what I saw before me.
At first it wasn’t that shocking, he had made a beautiful raspberry vinaigrette salad, he then presented us with bread sticks with grape jelly, but next to those foods was something odd. I couldn’t really explain it. It looked like a cross between eggplant and a giant mushroom. I smiled and said it all look delicious, but may I ask what the main course is. He was slightly irritated, and he asked me if I noticed my “favorites” theme. I said I wasn’t quite sure and maybe he could help me; after an eye roll, he gave in. He said he designed the meal after my favorite color: purple. What? A meal based on the color purple? I was in shock and not ready for his next statement. He said, “I made you purple chicken! I marinated the chicken in your favorite drink; diet Pepsi with purple food coloring. I was speechless as I saw my daughter trying to sneak out of the room. Not on my watch. We were in this together.
To our surprise, he had cooked the chicken perfectly and it tasted delicious, even though we had to close our eyes before we bit into it. He also surprised me with diet Pepsi with purple food coloring as my drink. We only learned about the purple food coloring when we saw our purple tongue and lips in the mirror afterwards. He finished the night off with a brownie surprise with a delicious purple marshmallow topping.
Having a son with Asperger’s Syndrome has taught me so much, but primarily that I may never understand what is going on in his head. What I do know is that whatever he is creating in his imagination is spectacular and the days he chooses to share those thoughts are among the greatest days I have experienced. My hope with my blog is not to lecture to anyone about Asperger’s Syndrome, but instead to enlighten others on how fantastic it is to have someone with Asperger’s Syndrome in one’s life. I cannot ever judge a book by its cover, it’s better to leave judgment at the door, and open the book and enjoy every surprise it has waiting.
With my son, life is never dull and always interesting, and I count my blessings everyday that he was born. Getting glimpses of life through his eyes is glorious, and my only wish is that others would learn to set down their critical eyeglasses and pick up a set that helps them see an entirely different perspective. Enlightenment is the entrance to a new, diverse world filled with great gifts beyond our own expectations.
JustJamie 