I am a gusher
A gloater. A gabber. A yapper. A blabber-mouth. A tell-all open book.
My favorite subject?
I talk about him to people that want to hear. I talk about him to people that don't want to hear...and talk about him anyway.
I show pictures. Play videos. Tell funny stories.
And for the most part, people smile and nod and tolerate me.
Sometimes I'm just talking about my son.
Not my AUTISTIC son.
Just my funny, quirky, hilarious, sweet son.
He will always have that autistic label, won't he? It will follow him around like the period at the end of a sentence.
I remember reading in the newspaper about a horribly tragic death of a woman I knew. In the news stories that followed, the paper not only listed that she left behind two young daughters, but two, young, autistic daughters. It still stays with me. Autistic daughters. Not just two children that lost their mother in an unspeakable way. But two children with an adjective attached.
And I've also come to realize that by me talking about my son can make others feel uncomfortable.
I think there are people that don't want to hear anything about him, because it makes them uncomfortable to know he may have challenges that are not typical of "regular" kids.
So when I talk, and show pictures, and play videos, and gloat and gab, I sometimes wonder...are people listening to me talk about my son? Or are they only hearing me talk about my autistic son?
Nine times out of ten...I'm not even thinking of the "A" word.