Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Quiet whispers

Just last week our dog died - our friend, companion, and helper.  He was 10.  He was chasing a frisbee last week and going fishing with our oldest son, and this week he is gone, taken by cancer.  We thought he had a lot more time but we were wrong. 

At night  I would often work in the barn on my little crafts and business - I would sneak out sometimes in the early hours of the morning, working till my eyes could not see anymore, and he would somehow know and be waiting for me in the yard, as if to guide me back inside. I KNEW he was there more than I saw him. He was jet black and blended into the night. Ocassionally I would catch the swish of his big tail as he greeted me.  He was never too tired to greet me and we always would exchange a few whispered words. I would lean down into his soft velvet ear and say "go to bed."  He would silently look up as if to say "you too." 

He was with us in the good times and bad, the rocky autism days and the smooth days, and he never faltered, staying steady and interested in anything Andrew did. Though andrew never paid any attention to him, Obi always was interested in Andrew's comings and goings, never judging, just silently watching with the unmistakable beat of his tail on the grass, or wall whenever Andrew walked by.

He will be missed. He is missed. He was a heartbeat at our feet when he lay with us and a steady, loving soul through all the storms of these last 10 years.

If there are places in heaven for good dogs, I pray he is up there looking down and wishing us well. He will be forever missed and forever in our hearts and minds.


Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Who do we trust

When raising a child on the autism spectrum, it is an ongoing battle to understand how best to help and who to trust  in the process.

I have learned nothing and learned a lot all at the same time, and I have no answers.

What I know (quoting Oprah) is that you have to trust yourself first, your gut, your spirit and your determination to steer a direction that feels right...

There are many many times that I want to give up, give in and throw in the towel, but I never do because to do so would be to quit not only on my dreams but on Andrew's as well.  Without me/us steering, holding tight and caring, his stormy seas would quickly turn to an endless tsunami. 

Riding crest after crest to nowhere.  So I hang tight to those things I believe in, attempt to steer straight and true, and learn to turn off the noise around me that serves no purpose but to distract.

Bless us all  surfers of these uncertain seas!

Andrew continues to work in his shop and I continue to hope and pray for a better future not only for him but for all.