He
comes to me
his hands bloodied
covered in raw wounds
but
there are
no tears
He doesn’t know what to do
so
he holds his hands out to me
red
swollen
limp
and i feel a shudder
invade my heart
I kiss them
lingering
wondering
hating
and i
taste the blood
on my lips
on my tongue
taste the anger and the pity
the hopelessness and fear
taste the bitter pill I am forced to swallow again
I don’t want to be inspirational tonight
I don’t want to be brave
I don’t want to compare and contrast and count my blessings
I don’t want to utter those stupid words I always turn to in times like these:
“It’s all we know.”
I imagine for a second
wish for a second
that I had sent out a Christmas card
that showed his bloodied hands
his pull-up peeking out from his size 7 jeans
his anti-seizure meds and supplements
and
his vacant eyes
as he looks towards someplace I am not invited
I imagine for a second
wish for a second
that I had written
F#$% Autism
F#$% THIS
F#$% IT
Instead of
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year
God Bless
I imagine for a second
wish for a second
that he would feel pain, real pain
the kind of pain
that would prevent him from picking and scratching and gouging his hands raw
because maybe if he felt that kind of pain
I would have to feel it a little bit less
I guide him towards the bathroom
wash the blood from his hands
watch it drip into the sink
watch it swirl down the drain
count the new scars
search for a sign of understanding
as I beg him to STOP
Please baby, STOP
and I imagine for a second
wish for a second
that Autism was watching right now
so I could give it the finger
This post made a knot grow in the pit of my stomach. A little sound rose in my throat, sort of strangled and out of place. I’m swallowing the lump and blinking back tears.
I don’t know your boy, I don’t know Autism but I know what it feels like to be a mother.
“Please baby stop”
I can’t get that out of my head.
I cried when I read this. As a mom it really touched me. I can’t imagine what your going through but I thank you for sharing it.
You are SO strong. And we will stop, you’ll see. I love you, very much.
I am so sorry for your pain. No words can make a mothers pain go away, but I am sorry and I understand.
Thank you my darling friend. Just by commenting, you make the world a little bit lighter.
I think, universally, as mothers, we can all relate to that shudder in our heart that can only be caused by our children. Regardless of the reason, motherhood bonds us in a way that nothing else can. Thank you for commenting.
Thank you so much Sandy. It is a series of ups and downs, and the best thing I can do is share them all with readers, in the hopes of building a stronger self and a stronger sense of community.
I love you very very much too. Some days just suck, you know? And some are better than others. Either way, I know we aren’t alone.
“Because maybe if he felt that kind of pain
I would have to feel it a little bit less”
Tears, Jo–for you and for him…for the chasm, deep and oh so dark–and for the claustrophobic, inescapable closeness-the love so hot it burns. And tears for the light–that you bring by fighting so hard to massage your pain into something more consistently bearable. Each time you post these achingly honest thoughts, there is a supernova burst of love inside my heart for you, precious mama.
It’s me again…I commented on your Autism SUCKS post…can I just say your are such a great MOMMY!! I don’t understand what you go to on a daily basis, but I have HUGE compassion for you and your family. Thanks for letting me peek into your life, you really are making me a better teacher, mother, and person. NO I am NOT a stalker, but a person who cares deeply about kiddos…
Dana! Please be a stalker! I can’t seem to meet my monthly quota, hahah! I am so happy you found my blog and that my posts resonate with you! You sound like an amazing teacher and I’m happy to have you on my team!