The circle of life...

“The Prophet” by Khalil Gibran, On Children.

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

There are days when I feel as though I am suffocating with worry. There is no escaping the fact that five kids equals five times the likelihood that one is in crisis. While I can cope with the knowledge that my children continue to need me regardless of their age, the passing years bring with them less ability to protect and direct.

For those of you with young children, I would say this. While the daily emotional and physical struggle with an autistic child can seem overwhelming, the reality is that once our kids become adults our options dwindle down to but a few. We can offer support and love, yet our definition and theirs will often differ greatly. Being a parent is never easy and we never, ever lose the ability to remember exactly how we felt the first time we looked into their little faces when they were born. Separating the emotions as a new mother and stepping back to be objective is impossible for me. I see my children now as I did on that first day. I always think of the possibilities, the hopes, the dreams. My heart breaks when they suffer and my love never wanes.

So how do we care for them in a way that they can accept when they become adults? How can we mother them in a supportive, encouraging manner when they disagree with us? How do we motivate and how do we draw the line in the sand when we know we have no alternative? Are we willing to pay the price?

I have spent years upon years being co-dependent. I lose sleep over how I can control a situation in an effort to be helpful. Knowing that I am co-dependent, I struggle with the inability to control anything other than my own actions. One thing that I have learned about myself is that I always reach a point where “I’m done.” When this becomes a reality to someone on the receiving end it is not accepted as reality. I have a history of experiencing guilt and responsibility for every fall my children have taken. I may have thought of it as nurturing but I know that it stifles growth. I understand that by reaching deep inside, praying for support and guidance as well as standing firm while weathering the storm, my children will be far stronger when I am gone.

The legacy I imagine leaving behind would be rainbows, roses and blue skies. The reality is that I must leave a legacy of the mother I need to be. Loving and nurturing… yes… but more importantly wise enough to have known when to help, and when to let them help themselves.

When I was a teenager giving my mother lots of mouthy attitude, she wished upon me a child that would give me such grief. Well, I showed her… I have five! I can hear her laughter all the way from heaven.

I never forget to laugh.

© Cassie M. Ferguson, 2009, Autism Funhouse and autismfunhouse.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Cassie M. Ferguson, Autism Funhouse and autismfunhouse.com, with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.