This is not my mom. This is also not my grandmother. She is my mom's roommate at the nursing home. A sweet lady named June, who likes her birdwatching, and accompanying my mother to bingo. June cannot hear very well in her old age, but she loves to talk. She doesn't quite understand that Chandler has any issues, or autism for that matter. But she understands that he loves to sit on her bed and watch the birds. I try to move him, and remind him that it is June's bed, and he can't just go wherever he pleases. She always tells me to leave him alone. Today was the first big flake, beautiful snow fall. June was already watching the snow drift down when we arrived, and Chandler climbed up to his "spot". She talked and talked to him about the snow, and told him to keep watching for the birds. They have this special bond, and she doesn't know it, but she makes me cry. Tears of happiness, that she sees what I wish others would see, and that is a little boy who loves the birds and snow, nothing else. He puts his hand on her arm every time we leave, and that simple interaction is enough.
