I have my own wishes.
I wish I could go inside my son’s mind and look out through his eyes with his thoughts. To see what he sees. To understand the world the way he does.
To understand the pain that comes with the touch of the water that is too warm on my skin;
The pain that would come when I would hear the words “choo-choo”, “moo” or “Mmmmm”;
To understand how hard the struggle feels when I cannot speak the words I need to say;
To understand the sensation or lack of sensation when I touch my lips with my hand, or rub a soft blanket or towel against my mouth over and over again;
To know how it feels not to understand where, or how far away, my body parts are in relation to each other, to objects, and things in space;
To have my arms brushed, to swing in the dark fabric, my body covered in darkness;
To understand the joy of crashing in a beanbag chair or into a wall;
To feel the fear and frustration of not being able to use my tongue to lick or to smack my lips to remove food;
To understand the disorganization in my mind when something spills or falls on the floor;
To know the intensity of interest and focus on every aspect of one thing to the exclusion of all other information from my senses;
To have the easy fluidity to read and spell without thinking, like I breathe;
To see the colors radiating from numbers but not be able to explain it to anyone else;
To notice the detail in objects far away but miss the things up close;
To hear the music and feel the beauty in the beat of white noise; or
To be overcome by such happiness and excitement that I must let it out through movement of my body from screaming out to dancing on my tiptoes.
In looking through those big and beautiful eyes at the world, just maybe I would find more patience, respect, appreciation, empathy and realization about my little boy. Maybe I would find a better way to help promote growth, independence, self-confidence and communication in him.
Just maybe I could wipe away the fog from the window between us, and he could better see how much I love him.
Because I do.