Fessing Up

Okay, it’s time to fess up. Those words, fess up, make me picture a little kid who has just polished off the cookies in the cookie jar. When his mom asks, “Honey, did you eat the cookies?” his eyes get huge and he shakes his head “no” while a few crumbs fling off his face. […]

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Birthday Cake

Seventeen Years Ago

My son, Jon, turns 19 years old this month. Seventeen years ago, I sat in a doctor’s office and listened to a kindhearted, brilliant man tell me my son had autism—an umbrella term with five major categories beneath it. All the while, Jon’s hand-flapping and toe-walking . . . and silence . . . and emotional distance . . . and . . . the doctor’s words kind of melted together.

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