Emerging Courageous Online Magazine - Stories
My Son, My Teacher - anonymous
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I
have a son. His name is Jake. Jake is five years old with brown
hair, and big brown eyes to match. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, he is also
autistic. The reasoning behind my mentioning the fact of Jake's autism is
not to gain sympathy from others, but to better explain the fact that because of
Jake's autism, I am a better woman; a better human being.
I view the existence of Jake in my life as the single, most biggest experience
and journey of my life. I have been told by others how "strong"
I am in order to have the capability to deal with life's curve ball that I have
been thrown. If I am strong, it is not because I was born with the
predisposition of strength. I am strong because Jake has taught me to be
strong, to be courageous, and to have faith. Jake has been my most
powerful teacher. Jake has taken me by the hand in a long human journey of
pain and wonder, tears and joy, fear and courage, struggle and beauty, anguish
and perseverance. What I have learned in this confusingly elaborate
journey, I could have never learned elsewhere. What I have learned in this
journey is carved into my soul.
You see, living with Jake promotes the human development and growth within me
that cannot be easily accessed by others or experiences. No doctor,
teacher, minister, nor my husband can tap into that certain part of me which is
required to grow as a human being. Jake has been the only person and
experience to successfully do so. I look forward to each coming month, as
I know I will experience yet another revelation about myself and who I truly am.
I do not view Jake's autism as a reason to mourn, or to receive the expressions
of condolences or sympathy as I mentioned earlier. Sure, there was a
period in the beginning when I mourned and grieved what I thought my son could
have been, had he not been afflicted with this disability. I then realized
that I must view my thoughts as the gate of departure where I say my good-byes
to my past expectations as I would to dear beings I leave behind before going on
a voyage. It is a rite of passage into the unfolding of an unbelievable
journey. Since then, there is not a single day that goes by in which the
thought of my beautiful son, Jake, doesn't make me smile. The perspective
and insight into life that he has taught me oh so well are extremely powerful
anchors. Within this frame, I celebrate Jake the way he is. I value
and protect his dignity, and I am most grateful for who he is.
I have been able to access Jake's soul, which is a remarkable achievement in my
family. I have made contact with a human being who happens to be trapped
behind the insulating walls of a most isolating condition. Isn't this the
way in which we truly access other human beings? It is a miracle that
happens not one minute before our own walls come down; not one minute before our
own expectations of the other person dissolve; not one minute before you are
ready to open your arms and your heart to that other human being just the way
they are -- in their own culture, with their own way of communication, without
prefabricated conditions and clauses. Only then you both cease to be strangers
to each other. Only then you realize your common humanity and destiny. Only then
the true journey begins.
These realizations have been the most valuable lessons that apply in anything I
do in life, and with everyone I deal with. I find that they are universal.
The lessons Jake has taught me, those universal lessons that I treasure, get
validated over and over again.
Walls down, barriers down: That's the lesson taught to me by Jake, and I strive
to make it my motto. If only we could all spread that wisdom throughout
our ailing world. If only the world could have more teachers like Jake!