“I close my eyes and there’s someone beside me.
Hand in hand, we can only speak in tongues.
He’s pulling me along.
Follow’n down, a trail of crumbs behind me,
My head’s in his hands,
But everything, it still feels wrong.
This isn’t what I thought,
So can I just go home?
~ On the Ocean, Guster
Am I a mother? To what degree? In what regard?
I think it’s time to leave the parent-autism-blogging to the bloggers who are raising the children with autism. I don’t even have the experience of parenting in common with parents anymore. And I don’t have the appropriate filter with which to clean my dirty laundry and make it smell fresh before donning it & strutting around for all the cyber-world to see.
What have I done here? Told and re-told a story, ad infinitum, and I no longer have it in me. I’m sorry.
…and have delicious days…
– – –
“It was too late; the shore was far behind her, and her strength was gone. She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. She heard her father’s voice. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.”
The end of The Awakening by Kate Chopin, (slightly edited)
The Never Normal 
😦 please keep in touch.
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No, Amy, don’t go. I need you to tell your story. It is cathartic for both of us. I need to feel your words, and to feel the connection we briefly had.
So, If you need to write, I’ll always be there. If this is truly the end, then I loved knowing you, and the note you wrote to me almost a year ago sits on my nightstand, waiting for a bad day to read it once again.
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Amy, It feels so strange to be writing my last reply to your last blog post. I’m hoping that your decision to leave the autism blogging to parents whose kids are living with them comes from a positive place, a place of completion of your own years of full-time parenting, a place of surrender of that primary-caretaker role for Jonah’s greater good and your own.
For, dear friend, though you are no longer Jonah’s primary caregiver, you are a mother and you always will be. As long as you are visiting Jonah at school, as long as you are in touch with Anderson’s staff, as long as you pray for your son’s progress and send him loving thoughts, you are a mother to the greatest degree. Only if you had dropped your kid off at a residential school and disappeared from his life would you be a lesser-degree mother, one only in a biological sense.
As I write, my intuition whispers that your decision to end your blog today is a healthy one, a letting go of the past’s dark, downward spiral of smeared feces, bites, punches, kicks and scratches, a lifting of yourself and your son to a future that is brighter than your past.
My love goes with you and with Jonah into that bright future. Be well. Be happy. And please keep in touch.
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Thank you for your blog – I have appreciated your insights and candour about the ongoing journey with Jonah. I think your decision to ‘fin’ is a positive one. Best wishes for many happy times ahead.
Sylvie Z.
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Amy,
While I understand, totally, what you are saying here, I will miss reading Normal is a Dryer Setting, and the regular insights into your life.
Keep in touch, send me links to anywhere else you might be writing, come back to wdc and write there – whatever; just know that I miss you and love reading about your thoughts and feelings, experiences and etc…
love Carolyn Gandouin
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You need/deserve to feel free to do what ever it is that suits you this day… and if you change your mind at some later date… so be it. There have been so many confining and difficult things and you do not need to feel that here.
You have shared your experiences in a way that might give others a greater understanding of the heart-breaking experiences that can come in the world of parenting an atypical child. For someone who is experiencing a struggle similar to you, someone who may not have the writing ability and the guts to post their greatest fears – for that person – you may be the lifeline that has allowed them to realize that they are not alone in this.
I believe your writing has helped others and you may find that you have more learning or experiences that you are able to share. There are other parents who have their children at Anderson… or other schools. But this is your journey, and you have the right to take your next steps as boldly, or tentatively, or privately as you need to for yourself.
I have learned so much from what you have shared… and I have certainly valued and appreciated your friendship… your perspective… and your beautiful prose and poetry.
So then, Brave-and-Wonderful-Amy, I thank you and wish you and your lovely boy all that will bring peace, contentment and an easy black soda smile.
Leah
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Hugs
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I just recently found your blog from Leah so I haven’t been here long. I will miss you but you certainly need to do what you need to do. (hugs)
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Amy…I feel so fortunate to have been the optician who help you that day a year ago or so. It gave me the opportunity to get to know autism in a way I could never imagine. You’re a beautiful person and an amazing mother of a very special little boy. I’m honored to have met you and I hope to read more of your blog! Thank you for sharing your life, your story and Jonah’s world in such a candid manner…so few could ever write like you. ~Susan
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