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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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Defining Differently

Many words are used to describe someone with disabilities. Generally, the word disabled has a negative tone, doesn’t it? Some may say these folks are needy, challenged, unstable or unable, fragile or frail—words laden with a “less than” label that dismisses the person altogether. So now I’m going to admit something humiliating: before I became […]

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Free to Be

Mother’s Day 2012. At our annual lunch celebration, I sat with my niece Jessica and my son Jon. Jessica, only a few months younger than Jon, looked absolutely stunning. Full of life and intellectually gifted, she carries a joyful wonder about life that is so delightful. As I watched her, I began to recall the […]

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Reality at Its Best

I had become a statistic. Again and again, I had heard about the extremely high divorce rate among couples supporting a disabled loved one. And then I joined that “extremely high” category—a divorced mom with children ages 8, 12, and 13. The years as a single parent were difficult. Misunderstanding, judgment, and condemnation had driven […]

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