A letter to my son

August 14, 2011 @ Bertucci's

Dear Andrew,

Today is your 12th birthday. (For the record, it's partly sunny and 75 degrees out.)  I think you are the bravest and hardest working boy in the world.  Your autism holds you back sometimes, but it's also brought so many fun and wonderful things to our lives. Some of your interests, aka obsessions, have included: the most amazing drawings of houses a preschooler can make, home-made calendars, Presidents, Blues Clues, Weather forecasts and, of course, Build a Bears.  You have an amazing gift: memorization.  You can tell someone  born on April 4, 1967, what day of the week that was without blinking.  Pretty neat, indeed.

Some of the things that make me smile when thinking about you include: the Buzz Lightyear tent with a bean bag in it to sleep on, stuffed animal forts, you saying "I love you" back to me for the first time when you were 5, the purple tutu, and many tender and fun moments with Emily, Sarah & Julia, too.  Lots of squishy hugs, body socks, brushes, lotion, and your beloved bear hug vest have all brought you peace when your brain was not being kind to you, making you feel like you were crawling out of your skin and causing you unrest.

I know there is a lot you can't do now, and maybe won't be able to do. Some are even things you used to be able to do.  Have friends, going to a regular school, or your prom, or college. But, there is so much I know you can do and will do.  Part of me wants to scream, "Screw autism".  It doesn't define you  anymore today than on the cold February morning the neurologist at Mass General officially gave you the diagnosis. I am very grateful  to the many wonderful people (the list of Andrew's "people" throughout the years would go on for pages), who have helped you along the way.  Your sisters love you, despite the sometimes unflattering and unkind behaviors.  Our friends love you and accept you for the quirky kid you are.  Your dad and I love you to the moon and back.

Today has been a mellow day, too mellow if you ask your sisters, but it was just right for you.  You were a superstar at dinner, full of smiles, and I know how much you enjoyed your cake here at home. It brings me so much happiness to see you happy.  Thank you for all you give me.  You are my favorite 12 year old in the world!

Love always,
Mom