MOTHER WARRIORS

Spent most of yesterday reading this book.

Spent most of yesterday crying.

Spent most of yesterday picking at old scabs, only to find they aren't that old, or resilient, they are easily removed, and underneath is a festering ooze of anger.

Spent most of yesterday pissed off at doctors that told me nothing was wrong, support people that weren't, and everyone on the planet with typical children.

Spent most of yesterday completely turned upside down after reading the account of the mother with the 30-year-old son, still living at home, hiring prostitutes and treating them like his girlfriends.

That did me in.

Mostly.

But not entirely.

And that's what makes us warriors, right? Almost being done in, but not entirely?

Over and over again.

And again.

WHAT DO I KNOW?


I think Jerri was right when she said, "We tell ourselves we're 'confused,' but almost always know, and resort to confusion when we don't like what we know." Think she hit that proverbial nail on the proverbial head!

So - "confusion" has been cleared I know what I know. Knowing what you know is good.

Knowing what you don't know, that's good, too. So often we don't know what we don't know.

When I was at Kelly's funeral, I was talking to someone that was in my English class senior year. I told her how the subject I'd chosen for my term paper in 1981, seemed obscure at the time, and it was difficult to find information. I remember sitting across from this classmate, don't remember what her subject was, but wished I'd chosen it, as she seemed to have a big stack of books from which to draw great quotes, and I had like two.

My subject? Autism.

Wednesday My Jenny was on Oprah, talking about autism, and Mother Warriors - her book, and those of us, the mothers in the field, in the trenches, in the cross-fire.

Wouldn't have any problem writing a term paper on autism today - and what I know is I'm not confused about all my different emotions around that. I'm glad there's a broader understanding of autism in the world today, as it's really not a new "problem." I'm sad that there are so many of us "in the club." I'm thrilled there are people like My Jenny making a big difference to a big number of kids and their families. I'm frustrated with people that accuse mother warriors of not "accepting their children for who they are." I'm amused by the irony. I'm in awe of no accidents.

And I'm grateful.

Grateful to my English teacher for teaching me how to write. And do research. And put the two together.

Grateful my warrior days are, for the most part, behind me.

Grateful I know what I know - that what I am most of all, is blessed.




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