Acceptance

It is normal for a parent to hope and do everything in possible for their children so that their children can achieve more.

My hopes for my children from the moment I knew they existed were high, probably abnormally high.

They were so high because shortly after my fifth birthday, in summer 1978 I was diagnosed with cancer - non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I started kindergarten late, while losing my hair, vomiting from chemo, wearing a wig when I felt the need to cover my head. Some children and adults were cruel, horribly so. Some were kind, kindness you wouldn't expect to find. I went through kindergarten, first and second grade like this. Surgeries, radiation, chemo, missing school, missing classes for first holy communion. And then three years later it was gone. The hair grew back, I gained weight, and I was back in school regularly. But kids still teased; for years. And adults weren't much better. A story my dad related to me years after it happened was that just before I was to take first holy communion the priest didn't want me to take it because I had missed so many classes. My father fought, explaining that I might not survive this and the priest allowed me to take first holy communion. There were kids whose parents didn't want me over to play, they complained about my behavior.

But there was immeasurable kindness. Kindness I choose to remember more than the cruelties. My first grade teacher moved to second grade with me and was my friend. She took me out to lunch every year for my birthday for years after the fact. She sat with me for second grade pictures and I vomited on her. She came to my mother's funeral 20 years later. There were kids who were kind to me always and most recently one who I reconnected with through Facebook told me what an inspiration I had always been to him.

So when I had children I didn't want them to face what I faced. I took them from birth to the same pediatrician who diagnosed my cancer. I did everything I could to coach them to be kind, how to be social, how to play nice so you get invited back, cool clothes, etc. And then Asperger's came into our lives. And my son was bullied by kids, the teachers weren't able to deal with him and wanted him out of their classroom. And his brothers have suffered because everyone knows about their brother and his troubles.

So I mourned and tried unsuccessfully to accept this diagnosis. I consumed everything I could get my hands on to try and understand what I needed to do for my child and his brothers. And then it occurred to me that because his brain is not typical he will meet people that will manipulate him and he will feel friendless. But more importantly when real friends come along he will learn to treasure true kindness and friendship. He will make real connections with select people in his own way and he will inspire them as much as he has inspired me. His brothers are and will continue to be accepting people. And that is more than I could have possibly hoped for my children.