I could hardly stand there. My heart was already broken and every part of me wanted to grab dirt from that mound and throw it into the air and scream. It felt wrong, it felt like torture seeing the coffin being lowered into the ground. What kind of barbaric species stands and watching strangers bury the ones they love.
I don’t like remembering death dates in the forefront of my mind. Although I know my grandpa has been gone now since 2004, grandma since 2005 and dad since 1999. Very soon it will be 1 year since my Aunt Mary went home to be with the Lord and I miss them all yes but I grieve some people who are living even more than them. Because, some are not living they are stuck in the loss of a loved one and there is only room for the dying and not much room left for the living.
I cursed that they all would loose their life but I also cursed the pain they endured in their illnesses and death. I understood in those moments the compassion death had to reach down and sweep them away from their suffering.
Which leads me to why I write this blog. I read a comment on a post about Autistics started by a parent. Many of the people were understanding yet mixed in the middle like hair in a really good pot of soup were cruel hearted people. One saying
“ it is torture for a parent to have a child who is so disabled and so far from any form of communication. I feel sorry for parents of Autistics and think Autistic all should be wiped off the face of the earth because they have no life”
I guess it is only fair to allow all kinds of perspectives BUT I couldn’t help but wonder did the person who made such a statement have a child that was Autistic? Did the person even have a child? I also thought of my own birth mother and how so easily it appeared she turned a blind eye to the fact that I was different just like some people turn away from death and could not watch.
Truth is- It doesn’t hurt to be me, it hurts to be who others think I should be, or pray I will be, or dream I will be.
Somehow the truth gets buried and symbolically in ways I find myself at least once a day standing at my own grave watching the world bury parts of me I REALLY NEED.
Unconditional Acceptance is a really important gift those on the spectrum can give their Autistic loved ones. The chance for them to be who they really are with 2 feet on the ground in a world that is not very accepting of the various forms of living.
The truth is many live their lives every day only looking for proof of suffering
Is that not proof enough we are alive?
I choose to live far away from the grave.
The greatest thing you can create with anyone is “life”
The greatest thing you can talk about with anyone is “Everything”
The greatest thing you can go through with anyone is “time”
The greatest thing you can give anyone is “a chance”