autismdadinthe603

Cobe would come downstairs each morning from age 2 to 3 with his Tony the Tiger orange colored blanket by his side.  He would snuggle beside me as we’d watch some Toy Story and giggle at every moment.  It was a routine of being father and son.  

In a blink of an eye, he was dressed up as Spider Man pretending to shoot webs across the house. You could hear his sound effects echo down the hall.  It was childhood at its finest moment.

The memories of those moments are vivid.  Father and son playing.  Acting scenes out from a movie whether it be a battle from Mulan or Michael waiting for Marry Poppins to arrive.  These were moments that you wanted to have time stands still.   

Sawyer was there for many of these moments as a baby.  I would just watch him sleep in his swing or show smiles at Cobe and I as we played together.  

At the time, I just looked at Sawyer thinking that he would be next.  He would be Buzz Lightyear, he would be Darth Maul swinging his light saber at my Obi-Wan.  It would he and I on the couch snuggling just like Cobe and I did before.

These were my wishes as a dad.  I thought the normal would just be normal because that’s what I thought it would be.  I didn’t know that it could be anything different.  I promised myself a dream.

This is where I was late at night.   I would stare at an IEP report with black ink telling me milestones that my son may or not achieve.  It was like the rated G movie I got to enjoy with Cobe had morphed into a rated R drama and bypassed the hopes and dreams of Sawyer’s childhood. 

This is where I truly understood that he was not like you.