Mosaic

You know, today I am thinking about autism as a puzzle, and I'm not convinced. Pieces that fit together to make up a picture. But mostly puzzles are uniform pieces, straight edged, and fit nicely in the exact place. Autism feels like a mosaic to me. Some pieces are huge, and some are so small you can hardly see where they belong. It changes constantly, and all the pieces fit in their own way. And you never really finish it. You can just keep adding, or taking away. There's no border, no rhyme or reason. And the colors are beautiful, making interesting and unique works of art. The more you look at it, the more you see. Today we have put back the piece that allows Chandler to eat pizza without screaming, yesterday I added another "playing appropriate with a toy motorcycle" piece (added with tears, and fantastic pride), and a "calm, happy day at the zoo piece". Last month we got to add the "rides the carousel with apprehension" piece, (That is the piece I placed while watching his school staff cheer), and the "losing a bit of speech clarity for unknown reason this week" piece (This I added with confusion and frustration). Autism you are a mysterious work of art that can be all kinds of confusion and beauty. I hold up the oddly shaped pieces, and I read about them, study them, write about them like I'm in an observation lab. I can share pieces with my friends to gain clarity and new information, but I think we might still be in the dark for awhile. I try to make peace with that because I know one day the light will shine through this.