Losing Yourself at Both Ends
The dilemma of caring for grandchildren and ageing parents
One end: Welded.
My grandsons have ruled my heart since they were born.
Two have been difficult, different, even as babies. I love their autism almost as much as I love them. It welds them into my heart, it breaks it occasionally.
And it teaches me about myself as much as it teaches me about them.
High functioning autism is a hidden disability.
It disguises itself and makes you forget, but it doesn’t go away. It just tricks you from day to day and year to year. There are times I could doubt, looking at their beautiful faces and strong, straight bodies. Or the way they excel at every sport. Or act like everyday, idiotic teenagers.
But the mask slips.
They tell me every statistic possible about every team in every game in every sport. Or melt down overwhelmed by anxieties. Or pick their kid brother up on impulse and throw him like a football. Or run out of class because they can’t sit still any longer. And so it continues.
I run through their short experience of life.
