When Micah was a toddler, we spent a good amount of most Sunday mornings in the sky box, a room upstairs in church set aside for parents and their young children. In it we could see the service and hear via a speaker, but our children were free to play and act like children do who are asked to hold still for long periods. It was in the sky box that we got to know Lisa, another mother and her daughter Rachel. Rachel was a couple months younger than Micah, an adorable brunette with big brown eyes. As the weeks went by I began to think of Rachel as Micah’s first friend outside of our family, his buddy. Perhaps they would be life long friends, even date each other, who knew what might develop between them?
But as the weeks progressed the quiet warning in my gut that something was not quite right in Micah’s development was confirmed as Rachel began reaching milestones before Micah. She began speaking in sentences while Micah’s short sentences began to disappear. Thus began a series of evaluations and doctor visits that ended with the diagnosis of Autism that has been draped around my son since then. Rachel’s family moved away from our town, and did not attend our church any more. Life was busy as we were focusing on navigating life with autism. Years later I learned that Lisa was working part time at the private school in our town and that Rachel and her younger siblings were students there.
One spring night when Micah was in his late teens, I took him to see a musical that was being performed locally by the high school students. Micah likes music and I thought it would be a positive night out for both of us. As I read through the program prior to the start of the play I was surprised to see that Rachel had a leading role. I looked forward to seeing her after so many years, curious to see if she resembled the toddler I knew years before. When she appeared I was in awe of the lovely young woman that Rachel had become. She sang and acted with confidence and seemed fearless. All at once I was aware my eyes were filling with tears as I stared at the girl/woman who I once thought would be my son’s forever buddy. She had moved forward in life as we hope and pray all of our children do. As tears started streaming down my face, I glanced at Micah in fear that he was witnessing his mother’s meltdown, but thankfully, he was watching the play; rocking back and forth gently to the music. He had no idea that I was blindsided by dreams and losses that I thought I had grieved years before. Rachel, gifted and lovely, was a stark reminder that my son would never drive a car, or have a girl friend, live independently….the high price of carrying the autism mantle. We slipped out during intermission, the emotional overload was more than I could continue to deal with that night. Years have passed. I heard that Rachel went to college and recently married. I am thankful now that I was given a glimpse of her life and wish her only happiness.
Recently I hired a young woman to help provide respite care for Micah on weekends. She is a lovely brunette with brown eyes and an engaging friendly manner. Imagine my surprise when she told me that she almost feels guilty getting paid to spend time with Micah as he is so much fun to hang out with. Her name, with a slight spelling variation: Rachael. Micah’s buddy. A gift from above to my son and an answer to a long lost dream.
Jan Lessard Peightell 1/27/19