Autism & Crazy Love

I tell people I love them all the time.

Unfortunately I've lived long enough to have lost many loved ones, so I know how painful it is to regret things left unsaid.  It's really not cool when the last thing you said to someone is "can I have my jumper back?" or "how much was your car insurance?"  No one is gonna shuffle through the pearly gates/ jaws of hell/ whatever-you're-having-yourself and think "I'm really glad I know how Jean feels about the Matrix reboot".

Far better that those you care about actually know you care about them, before they (or you) leap off this mortal coil. 

Which is why it can be crap being a special needs parent.  It's not unusual for us to receive scant indication of love from our kids, verbally or otherwise.  On one heartwarming occasion I told Finian I loved him; he gazed deeply into my eyes and replied "I love Ford Focus Zetec".   Tbf, our car served us well, but I'd kinda hoped to outrank a two-tonne hunk of metal.  The truth is a bitch.

I grew up in the 70s and 80s when saying "I love you" to your kids ran the risk of spoiling them or, God forbid, making them less terrified of you.  It took me years to learn how to say it without dying of shame and dread.  

Eventually I mastered it.  Happily, my skin hasn't boiled off.  So far.  

By the time I had my kids, I was fluent in "I love you".  I could feel the emotion, translate it into words and express myself without the messy business of dissolving in a pool of mortification.  Just like a real human.  

I have friends and family who say it back to me.  Those who struggle with words, show it with kindness, or hugs, or a coffee.  

Then I have Finian who cuddles up to me....... and then tries to kick me out of my own bed so he can hide the iPad he robbed off his sister.

I know Finian loves me.  I suspect most special needs parents can intuit that their kids love them.  Just now and again, it's one of those breath-stealing darts of pain when you realise you've never actually heard him say it.  And never will.  Ouch.

(p.s. in a gorgeous synchronicity, just as I finished writing this, one of my daughter's friends messaged me and said "I love you Jeanie".  The universe be trippin')