Another year gone by.

Christmas was... so beautiful. Gone are the years that our kids were too small, Riley too lost, to really "get" what Christmas was all about. Last year we got a taste of the typical experience. This year, it was completely here. He was completely "here."

On Christmas Eve, we visited my mom's house. He spontaneously began telling family members "Merry Christmas" in a completely genuine, sweet way. "Merry Christmas, Henry! Merry Christmas, Grandma!" It brought tears to my eyes. He wasn't just experiencing everything. He was experiencing everything, and sharing that experience with others.

His ability to engage in the day, open gifts, have a special dinner, understand the whole thing... just so typical. It's a gift in itself to have him "here" with us now.

I felt myself overcome with grief at the same time as we were celebrating such a wonderful thing. I felt myself thinking about the years where he just wasn't "here." It isn't really sadness, nor is it anger. It's just a loss in many ways. Realizing that we missed out on so many experiences that most parents have with their young children. We are finally getting them now, and I am grateful for that.

Most of the time, I don't grieve a "typical" experience anymore. I don't find myself wishing that we could have had a typical child much anymore. I'm mostly past that point now, toward more of an acceptance that this is our life, and these were our experiences.

I guess it's just one of so many indescribable emotions that comes with everything surrounding this journey.

We were also taught a bit about the value of acceptance and love from others, and how they show that. It's not going to look the same for everyone. And parenting a child with autism has taught me that some people just don't "get" it, and if they do, it takes a while. Most of the time, people truly do not understand what it is like. They have assumptions, but nothing to back them up. I think that is true with many things in life. We just have to be open to learning about each other.

We are coming up on living in our house almost three years. I was not shy about sharing with our neighbors when we moved in that we had challenges with Riley.

It was more about me. It was about my need to vent, my need to have people understand my struggles, my needs, and why I probably wouldn't be a very friendly neighbor. It has taken a long time, and a lot of hurt feels and miscommunication, but I do feel that we are getting somewhere. I don't openly share these things with others now, as I feel it's Riley's story to tell. I also feel that I'd rather people get to know him than make assumptions about him based on a label.

The first thing that began was we started spending a bit more time with them. Even though I didn't want to, we did it anyway. This past fall, a neighbor began engaging Riley in conversations about fire alarms. He is an electrician. It would normally annoy people (he doesn't shut up about it once you start) but this guy... he just let Riley talk. Previously I thought that they looked at Riley like he was less than, that he was dangerous, that their child shouldn't play with him.

On Christmas Eve, as we pulled out of our driveway to go to my parents' house, we noticed a wrapped gift in the newspaper cubby under our mailbox. It was a gift for Riley, signed "from Santa's helper." It was heavy. I figured out what it was almost immediately. I was overcome with a range of emotion, mostly gratitude.

Riley opened it while we were at my parents' house. It was a disconnected fire alarm, a commercial one. This guy had gotten one from work, wrapped it up, put a note on it, and delivered it to our son. He thought about Riley enough to make this happen.

Words can't express what that meant to me as his mama. My dad also seemed very touched by it.

Connecting with people is what it's all about. And he's doing that. He connected with our neighbor so much that he went out of his way to connect right back.

Connecting with us, too. He openly talks about how much he loves us, and he even asks strangers questions about their lives. A few weeks back he asked a man in the grocery store, who was using an electric cart, if his legs didn't work very well. When the man responded that yes, it was hard for him to get around sometimes, Riley said "That must be hard for you."

Sooo much beauty in all of it. How do I even begin to put it into words?

~~

School is going remarkably well. His teacher says he's on par with all of the other kids academically. She also says his social interactions are in the normal range of what you'd expect in first grade. All such great stuff.

His younger brother is now being evaluated for TAG (talented and gifted) and I'm realizing that parenting each child is just that... parenting each child. They all have such different needs, and as we go on I realize that each of them will have higher intensity needs as we go on. It's just part of the normal human experience of parenting.

Here's to another year of learning, growing, healing.