I would love to say that my sister and I are best of friends. We say that I am from the 70's and she is from the 80's. While I was experimenting with Cover Girl, she was playing with crayons. So, as much as we wanted to be in sync, our age brought different interest for each of us. We lead very separate lives, me married and settled down, while she having the time of her life. We only came to find common ground when she embraced motherhood. Finally, we were on the same page. Now, with my third boy, we are able to have play dates together and share a common interest.
She wrote this article to share with all of you out there, her experience with my Ivan. I hope you see yourself in her situation, and step up to help anyone you know, who needs it. She was young and wasn't informed, but you have a chance, learning from our experiences. Make that difference.
"Did becoming an aunt affect how you felt about having children? I was just "too young to care" when I first became an aunt at 16. I had my life ahead of me, and besides it seemed like my sister and my parents - who were first time grandfolks had everything under control.
Control however is an illusion, as I've come to learn after becoming a mother myself. That control slipped right out of my sister's grasp when her second child began displaying signs of regression. "Autism" they called it. I don't quite recall who told me about it, or when I discovered he had it. When I did, it hit me like a storm. How could such a thing happen to us? Barely, and adult, I was under the illusion that we were the 'perfect family' - everything always went according as planned.
He was after all, very special to me. The second child, the shadow of the first. I saw much of myself in him. The first infant who I was allowed to carry, nuzzle, and was old enough to fee and care for. Unknown to me at that time, I had developed a special place in my heart for him.
We didn't have Wikipedia, or much knowledge of Autism back then. All I knew was that my sister would occasionally invite me to follow along for his therapy sessions, or to mind him when she had errands to run. I knew he was changing. Gone were the cuddling days. The next couple of years brought along a typhoon that rip through my idealist image of motherhood.
To make matters worse, my mother's take on his condition aggravated me. Call it lack of education, or perhaps she was lost in a state of ignorance. I found her 'coping' tactics to be utterly inhumane. From rapping tables to get his attention, to stuffing him with food so he'd sit quietly - she, in my opinion, ripped him off his granted childhood everytime opportunity presented itself. We had plentiful of arguments over this where she'd end the conversation by telling me to mind my own business.
Then there are the expected stares, rude remarks, and frightened glances I watched my sister go through - on top of everything else that was bearing down on her. I didn't know how to help. We weren't the huggy sort of family, so enveloping them in a bear hug might not have worked that well.
I eventually moved on with life, and got too busy for family. With the exception of occasions and celebrations, I rarely spent much time with my nephew. He is very much a teenager now- in both size and behaviour. Looking back, there are many things I wish I had done. Why did I not try harder to socialize more with him? Autism, is after all a social disorder. Could I have put in a more conscious effort to shower him with love? Perhaps read up on Autism to learn what are ways I could have taught him essential skills?
The idealist in me thrives on love, while the logical me knows I can't go back and change things, neither can I baby the now-teenage nephew of mine. I still don't know how can I help him. What I do know is that he will always have my respect, love, and acceptance. I don't see him any different from the rest of my family, despite the society carefully and di0plomaticaly labelling him as a person with 'special needs'. Perhaps the society is right. he is special. He is a human being who isn't afraid to hug someone when they're feeling down, or flash a wide grin when he catches you looking at him, or pat a crying child.
Indeed, in times such as these where stress, hate and anger dictates the media and our minds- my nephew is very very special."
Thanks Ann for your sharing with us.
