My sweet, silent boy.
He might not play like most children do.
He doesn’t rush into a toy store and tell me exactly what he wants, and ask for it over and over again.
He doesn’t rip open all his presents in one go on his birthday, or Christmas day.
And he doesn’t do fads. Where one second he’s into a certain thing. And then the next he’s not.
But he does like space.
And rockets.
And milky way galaxies.
He always has.
And his imagination.
Oh my goodness.
If only I could see inside his beautiful, silent, autistic mind.
I think I would see stars on steroids and rockets that race.
Because he sees things that we don’t see.
And whilst I might not know exactly what he is thinking. Or imagining.
I clock that look of concentration and amazement on his face. And his sounds as he swoops rockets through the air.
If only he could tell us.
I think he’d say.
“My imagination is not less than yours. It’s more. So much more. Because with apraxia, your body doesn’t do what you want it to do. Or your mouth doesn’t make the sounds it should. You embrace the magical world swirling around inside your head instead.” ✨
I hope, and pray, that’s what he might say inside his beautiful, silent, autistic mind.
#NonSpeaking #Autism #MoreNotLess