Autism: Beaches

Three years ago this month, Andy and I snuck away for a few days in Aruba. We hadn’t been away together a-l-o-n-e since Amy was tiny, so when we had the opportunity to spend a long weekend in Aruba, we jumped.

We purchased the trip from a friend whose brother had purchased it at a charity auction. Unfortunately, he couldn’t use the trip because his wife had died suddenly and he was left alone to parent their son, who had autism. (Funny how that word, even then, managed to creep into our psyche.)

I cried when my friend told me about her brother, so far away. Life seemed so cruel and unfair. It made me want to stop and reconnect with my Andy.

Wouldn’t it be nice if tomorrows had some sort of guarantee?

But one thing I know for sure is that life really is just an extended series of hellos and goodbyes.

So we flew off.

Little did we know, in just a couple of months, the word autism would become one that was very personal in nature.

I look at these pictures now and smile. I laugh about what different people we were then.

But then it occurs to me that that’s not really true.

We weren’t different people.

We just didn’t know ourselves quite as well then as we do now.

We loved each other then.

Still do.

Autism has a way of making you dig deep. Look at the world with a different sort of shades…

And yes, the last three years have been filled with dark times.

But they’ve also been filled with warm, sun-on-your-shoulders, sand-in-between-your-toes feeling moments.

Superdad Andy and I are sneaking off again this weekend. It’s been too long since we’ve had some time alone. Next week I start a new job, Amy starts third grade, and Jack starts some new in-home therapy.

Life is about to gloriously implode.

But for now, I’ll take the sand and one of those drinks with the umbrella in it.

And time with the truest of traveling companions….in so, so many ways…