A post from He-Who’s daughter Trisha just popped up on Facebook.
“ …my sweet Eric gave a speech today IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL about Remembrance Day! Big step for a young man who went through YEARS of therapy just to be able to talk! I’m in awe!!!”
I couldn’t be more proud at this moment if this child was my own flesh and blood.
I didn’t have children of my own, so that pretty much was the writing on the wall for grandchildren. Throughout the years, my sisters and friends have shared their children, and now grandchildren, with me. I am simply Auntie M to pretty much everybody. When He-Who and I got together, his daughters were grown. The oldest was already married and the youngest was about to be. Trisha and Stephen’s wedding was the first family event we were a part of as a couple. The next was the birth of their oldest child, Eric.
Trisha made a point of letting me be a part of Eric’s birth. It was an amazing gift and the closest I would ever get to experiencing child birth. That is until his sister Cyndi was born a few years later and I was given the honour of “cutting the cord”. For years I tormented Cyndi about her belly button, saying, “I made that!” Eric is now 13 and Cyndi is 10. These two children have taught me more about the important moments in life than you can imagine.
Eric was a beautiful baby, but not an easy baby. We all waited patiently for those “marker” moments that a baby goes through ― standing, first steps, first words, etc. They weren’t forthcoming. It wasn’t long before we received the news that Eric was autistic. This was a new word in our vocabulary and we scrambled to find out as much as we could. There were a lot more questions than answers and the mysteries of autism continue still. When Cyndi was born, we were led to believe that it was highly unlikely for a second child to also be autistic. They were wrong. Both children are autistic although they present differently. Trisha and Stephen were on the front lines always learning and looking for the best solutions to help their children lead the best lives possible. He-Who and I did what we could, when we could.
My first “moment” I remember, came through my Father. It was Christmas. Dad had a new lady friend and he was bringing her for Christmas dinner. Dad was a stubborn, impatient man at the best of times, but he very much wanted to impress this woman and I was expected to make him look good. I was very nervous. Trisha, Stephen and Eric would be with us. Communication was non-existent with Eric at this time. He was unable to make us understand what he wanted, needed or what was causing discomfort. He screamed. He screamed constantly. The guessing game would begin. Was he hungry? Was he wet? Had he hurt himself? The longer it took to figure out what he was trying to tell us the more frustrated he became and the louder and longer his screams. I sat my father down and tried to explain to him that this was not Eric’s fault and it was out of our control. Of course he thought it was all hogwash and there would be none of that. I was sure he wasn’t really listening and would never understand. Christmas day, about an hour into the latest screaming binge, I heard my Dad’s guest say something to him about it. Before I had a chance to wallop her with a frying pan I heard my Dad say, “You have to understand. The little guy is just frustrated. He is trying to communicate with us and he can’t make us understand.” He went on, patiently explaining to her everything I had tried to explain to him earlier, adding a few facts that I knew he’d found out on his own. Eric showed me something in my father I had never seen.
The day I discovered the power music had over Eric was like magic for me. I was watching Eric and working from home. He had been screaming for a very long time and I had exhausted all the queries I could think of to make him stop. I was tied up with promoting the Toronto production of “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat” with Donny Osmond. I popped in the video of the production so I could get familiar with it. Within seconds Eric was quiet. He sat through that video without one peep out of him. As soon as it ended he started screaming. I inserted another musical video and he continued to scream. Three tapes later I gave in and put Joseph back in the machine. Eric stopped instantly. By the time his parents returned Eric had watched that video six times. That videotape was my secret weapon. I learned to hate it but was always grateful for its effect on Eric.
The most profound moment came from Cyndi. For Eric, walking, talking and his eating habits were probably his biggest hurdles. It was different with Cyndi. She wouldn’t make eye contact and she wouldn’t let you touch her. When it comes to his grandchildren, He-Who is a very affectionate man. It didn’t matter how much time we spent with Cyndi, she would turn away if you looked at her and she would not hug you or show any sign of affection. This broke He-Who’s heart. Eric was a very affectionate child and hugged his grandfather enough for both children. Still, He-Who longed for a hug from his granddaughter. One day, while working in the edit suite, I answered the phone. It was He-Who. He was crying, sobbing actually. He could just get out the word “Cyndi” and then he would get all choked up again. I thought something terrible had happened. It took awhile, but he finally managed to tell me that Cyndi had given him a hug. He had waited five years for that hug! I knew what it meant to him and I sat crying with him on the phone. Thank God for dark edit suites.
There has been lots of help along the way. Both children were able to be mainstreamed and are doing well in school. There have been speech therapists, programs and teaching aides. We are fortunate here in Ontario to have a lot of support provided for autistic children. Their parents have worked very hard to make sure they take full advantage of anything that will help their children. Cyndi and Eric know they are autistic and they constantly try to improve things that they know may set them apart. If you comment on Cyndi’s monotone, she will tell you, “That is part of my autism and I’m working on it.” Trisha and Stephen believe that “we have to put faces to the issues. Make them real so people can accept, sympathize, and bond with people who have disabilities.” They have taught their children that they shouldn’t be embarrassed or hide because they are autistic, that they have a voice and that they can help others like themselves.
Cyndi loves to dance and she writes poetry. One of her poems has been published.
Eric wrote a speech about Remembrance Day. Today he gave his speech in front of the entire school. There are many “moments” ahead for these two brilliant children.
Note: This is one of my “lost” posts that originally appeared on another blog. It was written in November of 2012. The kids are a couple of years older but they still continue to amaze me every day.
What a lovely piece about these two youngsters. I recall a post about Cyndi in her costume. It sounds like you all make a great group of loving family you have chosen for yourselves. Sometimes those are the best kinds of relationships.
Hi Renee, I think the costume post was actually about Ellee, my Grandniece. I don’t remember writing anything about Cyndi in a costume.
Yes, we are a motley crew but, as you said, there is a lot of love there.
Thanks for stopping by.
Love is love is love is love. How fortunate you all are to have that.
A tiara and pink boa and Donny Osmond singing are just icing on the cake. 🙂 .
Who doesn’t love a tiara. It brings to mind my favourite “Big Bang Theory” scene.
I’m still not sure I can listen to “The Technicolour Dreamcoat” again. 😉
Public speaking is not something that I can do. In fact, I cannot communicate properly when I am not feeling at ease. So, this is such a wonderful thing for someone to achieve.
It really is. I am a Toastmaster and I still get nervous standing in front of people speaking.
This is wonderful, so poignant, brought tears to my eyes. Incredible when people can overcome such barriers and achieve so much. There was a TV series in the UK last year called “Educating Yorkshire” that was like a fly-on-the-wall type of show on a school in a fairly deprived area, and there was this one boy who had a severe stammer and struggled so much throughout school, he could barely get a word or two out, and in the end, with the help of a teacher (and music!), he managed to give a speech to the school (not to mention that he knew it was being filmed too), and the other pupils and teachers were in tears, it was so amazing.
I love that Big Bang tiara scene too! 🙂
It seems we spend a lot of time with those tears of joy in our eyes with these kids. Their accomplishments continue to move us.
Yes, I can’t think about the word “tiara” without laughing about that scene.
This is such a wonderful love story, Michelle. I remember reading it before — on Black Box Warnings, I think. So glad you found it. And gladder still that you reported it.
Thanks, Elyse. You are correct about its original location. There were some really great,helpful posts on that site. It is a shame it is gone.
It is. And wasn’t this one FP’d, too?
No. This one wasn’t FP’d. I would have liked that.
One of my thoughts while reading this was “You never know what people are going through”. I’m so happy for He-Who that she hugged him! You are a proud Grandma and I see why!
Not quite a Grandma but, I am very proud of them.
Thanks, Sherry.
As a former teacher, I saw so many autistic kids in mainstream classrooms that, through no fault of their own, didn’t have the appropriate resources and training required to support the variety of needs presented in the spectrum. Those grandkids of yours are so lucky to have a family that not only supports and understands but is advocates for them as well. A lovely piece with a lot of heart. Toni
We are very fortunate here that the government does provide a lot of support for autistic children. Up to a certain grade. Now that Eric has moved out of the lower grades and is going to a different school he is having some difficulty adjusting without the same level of support. They have been make adjustments since September and we seem to have something that works now.
Thanks, Toni.
Michelle, glad this post was found. That bit about Cyndi and the hug was so gorgeous… you had me worried there for a second that this was going into disaster territory, but instead you had me at heartwarming. It’s hard for me to express how true this all rings, with kids my own – and I have to say, I figured you were pretty awesome, but there’s proof in this post, in that you’ve played such a part in the lives of children not your own. Cutting the cord even. Cyndi and Eric look like great kids. Glad they have parents who went to work for them, and that they have a provincial system that actually supports kids with autism… but mostly glad they have other people in their lives to get them through. Kids are so precious. I am reminded of that constantly.
Really great post. Makes me feel so glad to have read it. I’d go up and hugs my kids if they weren’t asleep.
Trent,
I have to admit I get a lump in my throat every time I even think about that hug. It’s one of those things that is hard to express exactly how huge that one small gesture was to us. All of us. We take so much for granted that is second nature…until it isn’t.
Thanks for reading (I know it was a bit longish), I appreciate your feedback and encouragement with my writing.
They are amazing! I used to work with autistic children back in my college days. I loved it.
They, like all children, are a challenge but well worth the effort.
Thanks for stopping by.
Very affectionately written.
That’s me. Full of affection. 😉
You have a beautiful family! Even more that it’s not just bound by blood.
Thank you El Guapo. I kind of like them, too.
Thanks for the shout out on twitter. Have the WP people been known to pay attention?
Sometimes they do. Hopefully they’ll recognize this post and link it.
What a wonderful post, Michelle! I especially enjoyed hearing about your dad growing with this experience. Sometimes challenges bring out the very best in people. And, also the healing power of music for Eric. I bet that felt like you struck gold! I’m so happy to hear that they are doing well and are not limited in their desires and aspirations.
Thanks, Amy. I’ve often felt that these two have more potential than any of us. They are brilliant. The trick is to channel their abilities so they can reach their full potential. The reality is, that’s the trick for ever kid.
Wonderful post!
Thank you, Publik.
A beautiful tribute, not only to the two kids, but to their parents and grandparents, as well. Can I join your family?
By the way, I’ve always suspected that He-Who was a big softy. Tell him I had some french fries today and thought of him.
What a strong and touching story you are telling about family and bonding. Disabilities are always tough, but it’s also very inspiring and encouraging to learn and see how families and those with disabilities have an enormous capacity to cope. Your «grandchildren» are amazing.
Thanks, Otto. I think they are pretty amazing too.
I think your life is a rich and full one, my lovely friend.
It certainly has its moments. They aren’t quite as entertaining as yours but they are mine. 😉
awwwwwwwwwww… you had me at baby pictures…
You had a baby picture of yourself in the very first post of yours I ever read. I guess we are both suckers for the babies.
I love babies… and they love me…
Excellent post. So glad you found it again. 🙂
What is a strength in one learning environment, is a weakness in another. A society needs to accept that diversity in order to tap into all the contributions individual members can make. When it fails to do so it becomes a tyryany of unbalanced expectations. Consider the H.G. Wells social fable , Country of the Blind, as an example/metaphor of how we treat those with different modalities/ learning processes.
Thank you so much, Charles.
I’m sad to say I have not read, “Country of the Blind” but I have He-Who searching for it on the Kindle right now.