Ode to Autism (and Patrick)
I barely know you.
You are so like a small stuffed teddy bear. Who are you inside those seams? With what are you stuffed? Where are your dreams and plans? Whose hearts are aching for you to think and converse and talk about your world? Would you exuberantly tell of new shapes, pure sounds, and vibrant colors if we unzipped you?
Has your world oft times been painful and muddled? Forgive me for wondering, but I think of you often and pray that God in His mercy talks your language and has a special place beside Him that only you know about.
If we live forever when we die, (and that’s a long time), then our short time on earth can only be a place the wisdom of innocence wins over the wisdom of the world.
In ny own wisdom it seems to me that you’ve been denied a full and happy life, but what do I know? Maybe your joy is inexpressible.
Anyway little Teddy, full of stuffing’s, and such, please know somehow that you are dearly loved no matter how much of yourself has worn away.