Spring 2007, Niceville, Florida

By Liz Rhodes

Having an autistic child means a life of constant challenges and constant joy. There is seldom any middle ground for the parents of an autistic child. There are frequently merely soaring highs and plummeting lows. “Normal” is no longer a word the parents of an autistic child use.

The first time our daughter rode a bicycle was an incredible high. The realization that she probably will never live on her own was a horrible low. The first time we saw her having an independent conversation with another child was another high. The day she refused to hug her newborn baby cousin was a low. The first time she spoke clearly on a telephone was a day of a promise. The first time we saw the “special education” designation was a day of sorrow.

What makes life with an autistic child so moving is that it is almost impossible to predict when the highs and lows were come. As the mother of an autistic youngster I have found that the highest of highs often occur when I least expect them.

A few months ago, I asked my 11-year-old autistic daughter to write a poem. I was desperately seeking any approach to entice her out of the comfortable shell she prefers to exist in. For her poem, I suggested topics like the sky or our Golden Retriever or pizza.

Our daughter has significant motor delays and is unable to write legibly with pencil and paper, so I suggested she create her poem on the computer. I quite candidly expected a four line poem that perhaps would rhyme. Instead, this is what she gave me.

Life Equal
Good
Proud, Kind
Misunderstanding, Perfect, Prejudice
Good can be Evil and Evil can be Good
Prejudice, Perfect, Misunderstanding,
Proud, Kind
Evil

I was astonished. The poem was brilliant. The poem was insightful. The poem was inspired. It was almost perfectly palandromic. Above all, the poem gave me a window into my daughters thoughts and feelings: She is both unwilling and unable to speak or write clearly, but through her poem she was able to convey a part of herself to me.

For parents of neurologically typical children I imagine this is something that happens frequently. For parents of autistic children it is, unfortunately, rare. I felt like I had been given a gift and I was unsure what to do. I asked her about the poem but she didn’t want to talk. The poem said it all for her.

My husband and I decided to ask her several days later to write another poem. Could she once again open herself up through poetry? We had no indication what she would do. Thirty minutes passed. She came out of the computer room and wordlessly handed me a piece of paper.

She had created another brilliant piece. For the past few months, much to our surprise and delight, she has continued to write beautiful poetry. Sometimes the poems are humorous. Sometimes the poems are dark and brooding. Sometimes the poems are just wonderful. I occasionally suggest topics as I did for the poem below.

We were studying the moon and I asked her to write a poem about landing on the moon. With that poem and every other she has far surpassed any expectations I have.

Moon Poem
I look up and see the Earth
I look down and see deep space
I hear the roar of the engine landing
I see many dust clouds forming
I jump out of the ship and I feel weightlessness for the first time
I feel the uncomfortable warmth of my space suit
I then realize my spacesuit is disappearing
I scream but sound does not come out
I wake up safe and sound
Just a dream

It is now several months later. I currently have a large stack of my daughter’s poetry on my desk. Soon, we will submit some of the pieces for publication. She’s also being considered for a junior editor position with a children’s literary magazine. They do not know she’s autistic. All they know is that she is a poet.

My autistic daughter has found her voice. Through poetry she is able to express herself with depth I never thought possible. Like most of her highs, the gift of poetry has been completely unforeseen.

We still have and will continue to have our lows. Poetry, however, is a high. It serves as a reminder of just how privileged I am to be the mother of an autistic child. The highs will continue to leave us breathless with joy and amazement at the wonder of life with an autistic child.

Liz Rhodes is a mom to one daughter and wife to a college mathematics professor. They live on the beautiful Emerald Coast in Florida. She is using a pseudonym.

Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Monday, April 30th, 2007 | Email This Post

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