Complex Blessings
it is a hard miracle and a diamond miracle
and a frightening miracle
and an empty and endless miracle
it is a miracle with teeth and beyond blue
u can’t hold it in your hands because it’s too big
u can’t hold it in your heart because it’s too small
like everything else human,
autism is everything and nothing
and something exactly at once
like everything else human,
autism has shape and pulse –
but it’s not to be especially celebrated
or merely tolerated
it’s just the end of a to be verb –
meaning autism is whatever it is
it hurts, harms and heals all at once.
somewhere, on the other side of the sea –
another mother is weeping
because her boy is strapped in a helmet
and covered with bruises
somewhere, on the other end of the world –
a mother is celebrating
because a 12-year-old just took her first steps
and then blew her nose in a tissue
somewhere on or over an ocean with no name
a mother is reveling in the deep delights
her endlessly intelligent child brings to her each day
these are all the same face,
the face of autism in its many expressions –
when you love someone with autism –
it’s always a complex blessing
it’s in the eyes of all who love,
or fail to love them.
what you celebrate another parent grieves
what the other parent grieves looks like a drizzle of diamonds to you
that is one hell of a miracle
because autism is just as miraculous as the rest of the world –
no more no less –
given that the world was born into infinity from a big bang
birthing lithium and carbon and the entirety of the universe
in a second’s single stutter –
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I am a 56 y/o woman who is high functioning autistic with two children, ages 37 and 20 years respectively, who are on different ends of the spectrum as well. I’ve been dealing with autism personally and up close for many decades. I have some conflicting feelings about this poem, about autism being a “frightening” and “empty and endless miracle,” that it’s “not to be celebrated,” that it “hurts and harms.” Because I was undiagnosed autistic until my 50’s, my childhood and young adult life was filled with abundant trauma, hurt and harm that was inflicted by the hands of other people, especially sexual trauma by family and strangers alike. My children have been bullied, beaten, assaulted repeatedly…at the hands of others. Neither I nor my kids inflicted harm and hurt onto others. And because we have all survived all these decades, I do celebrate. We are magnificent human beings who have autism, and we live in reality and are thriving human beings. I just don’t understand Rosie’s pessimism regarding autism and what it’s like to live on the spectrum.