Originally posted February 15, 2012.
We wrote with black marker on the skin of your chest.
Letters of your name:
Underneath, our home phone number.
Your first trip alone without parent or aide,
A beautiful, distracted, autistic first-grader.
After you left,
We unsuccessfully throttled our panic.
Time has wheeled by, between that day and this.
Years filled with laughter — frustrations, too.
Days of learning about hearts and brains:
Today, you paused on the high school’s steps.
Stopped to wave, gave a little smile, and then you were gone.
I saw the shadow of your six year-old smile and your six-foot-frame.
My moment of unbridled happiness.