Dear
Elf,
Happy
Belated Birthday!
I
don’t think it was a coincidence that you were born during autism awareness month. If there was ever a blue-eyed boy with autism
who desperately needed a friend to help him learn the ropes of the world, it
was Caden. Before we met you, leaving
the house was hard—like really, really hard. Open spaces were overwhelming for
Caden, and he usually resorted to flight in places such as parking lots or
fields. I lost count of the number of
close calls that we had in parking lots. When we did go out, we tried to keep him in
his stroller at cheerleading competitions for his sister because the crowd
sizes were so overwhelming for him. The
mall? Well, that certainly wasn’t even a
consideration. Friends were nonexistent
and transitions were a nightmare. We
won’t even mention sleep because it just wasn’t a thing in our household.
Then
you came into our lives. You wiggled and
wagged and exuded so much energy that morning we first met you that I had a
moment (and I’m embarrassed to say this now) where I wondered how in the world
you were going to possibly offer any kind of calm or stability to our boy. Our first night together at the hotel, though,
you went into the bathroom to watch his bath and never hesitated to jump on his
bed when he laid down. And from the
moment we drove home after 4 Paws graduation (and he threw up all over
you---sorry about that) you two have been together.
You
have so kindly accepted all of our cats (even the ones who like to bathe you)
and every dog we have brought into the house no matter how ill-mannered or
undignified they act (seriously the puppy will one day mature…I think). When your boy is doing well, you have
provided much needed love for Caden’s sister and you have helped our youngest
work his way through adoption trauma.
You haven’t hesitated to try to help a stranger in need in the doctor’s
office, the school, or where ever you are and are needed. And sometimes late at night before you retire
to Caden’s room, you spend some time and kisses making sure that we are okay
too.
You’ve
been a pillow, an Ipad holder, a stuffed toy fetcher, a blanket, and a best
friend. You’ve helped Caden explore the
world with you safely by his side, and when he’s wandered (that toy store
incident was totally my fault because I misread your “get a clue lady, the kid
is leaving” message for a “hey I’m a dog and gotta go potty message”..sorry
about that) you have safely located him no matter the weather, the location, or
the circumstances.
Without
a question you know everything you were trained to do and you do all of your
tasks well. I’m grateful for your
ability to disrupt behaviors, ease transitions, provide sensory input, tether,
and track. And if that’s all you ever
did, I would forever be thankful for you.
But you are so, so, so much more than that to Caden. You are his best friend—you are the one who
is with him in the middle of the night and he has a bad dream or first thing in
the morning when he wakes up and is still disoriented from sleep. You’ve walked into hospitals and educational
settings when we couldn’t go with him.
You have loved him unconditionally and for that I will be eternally
grateful for you.
To
be honest, I don’t much like thinking about your birthday because it means you
are getting a year older. But no matter how
painful our final parting will be someday, I will never regret our decision to
bring you into Caden’s life.
If
I could give you one thing on your birthday it would be for you to know that we
love you to the extent and depth that you love our boy. And that’s pretty much all the way to the
moon and back. Thank you for helping us
write Caden’s tale.
Love,
Caden's mommy
