Autism

We had a meeting with my son's Kindergarten teacher today, to discuss his progress. It felt almost surreal to discuss facets of the behavior and personality of a five-year-old and knowing that some of these descriptions could just as easily be applied to me, at 43.

It was when my son was diagnosed as mildly Autistic, at about a year old, that I began to discover the key to my own behavior and personality, when it became apparent that I almost certainly had the same condition, as well. Questions were answered for me, questions I had never even thought to ask. This has been a profound experience for me — one that, in many ways, has changed my life almost as much as becoming a parent.

We are very much alike, my son and I, in ways that I continue to find surprising. I'd like to think he has inherited many of his best attributes from me — his humor, his creativity. But it's obvious he has also inherited many of my worst, and I know how this might shape the course of his life.

I feel as though I know him better than anyone because he is — to a great degree — me.

My wife worries altogether too much about how his Autism will make life difficult for him, while I'm much more at ease, much less concerned. I feel confident that my son will be okay, because I've been through all of it already. I know he'll be okay because I'm okay.