They were showing helicopter footage of the World Trade Center. It was on fire. They were speculating that a plane had crashed into it. A small plane. It had just happened. A few minutes later I could see a jetliner cross the screen, really close up. And then the explosion. I have never seen that footage again.
Having two little ones on the spectrum for the past seven years has pushed aside the lingering memories and haunting images and unsettled emotions that used to be a daily part of my life from that day and the days and days that followed. They come back every once in a while, those memories and images, but autism has changed me. If autism has taught me anything, it's to savor the moment you are living, the moment you are experiencing, the life you have, as it is, right now.
My babies were adorable this morning. My daughter with a new toothless gap in her pretty little mouth. My son designing yet another "city" with his Legos, toy planes, structures and cars, all the while getting ready for their 6:37am bus pick up.
I remember calling my parents twelve years ago right after the second plane hit. It wasn't even 6:30am yet on the west coast. They had no idea. Twelve years later, west coast time, my wife and I are putting our two little autistic children on the same bus, dressed in the same school uniform, going to the same school and same classroom with the same great teacher and aides. Had you shown me that scene of my future self in those moments twelve years ago, when the world stopped and came crashing down, walking with my little ASD family to the yellow school bus waiting at the corner, I would have been shocked, thrilled and relieved to know that was my destiny - because that meant that I was alive, had two beautiful children, was married to the same lovely and caring soul, and was living a life I never imagined I could have ever lived.
Cherish this moment.
Love this moment.
Right now.
We are here.
And here is a beautiful place to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment