A recent Facebook post of a missing non-verbal child with Autism flashed me back in time to the panic I felt when Micah was about 4 or 5 years old and was missing for what seemed an eternity but was probably about 15 minutes. My gut reaction to seeing the Facebook post was to share the post of the adorable little guy right away even though the photo did look familiar. Shortly after sharing the post, my daughter-in-law replied that the post was an old one. I felt badly for re-sharing the post as the little guy had not been found alive. My heart aches for his family, as I experienced just a small sense of the total panic they must have been feeling as they called for a child who could not respond.
I am sure most parents have experienced a similar sense of panic when their young child wandered out of sight, but by the time their toddler was age two or three, their child could most likely respond with words or come to their parents when called.
The incident I flashed back to was a time when Micah had slipped outside unnoticed. As soon as I was aware he was not in the house I ran outside calling his name, but there was no response. I ran down to the road and frantically ran first in one direction, then in the other, knowing he could not have gotten too far in the time since he was last seen; but he was no- where in sight. After running out back and looking in the woods with still no sight of him, I went inside and called the police for help. The happy ending for our little guy occurred as I waited frantically in the driveway for the police to come and happened to look over into our van to see Micah sitting contentedly inside. Thus, by the time the police arrived, Micah had been found safe and sound and I was somewhat embarrassed, but also so relieved that he had been safe the whole time. I later wondered what he was thinking as he watched his mother run all over calling him. I am sure it was an odd scene to him, perhaps even funny to watch. But, stuffed into my heart was a feeling of terror that was triggered when I saw the Facebook post of the missing boy whose story did not end happily.
After the Micah hiding in the van incident, we actually made the decision to move to a safer area where our home would be further away from the road. We built our new home at the end of a Class VI road to reduce the risk of him slipping unnoticed outdoors and ending up near or in the road. Our sense of relief about our new location was tempered one morning when I stood on our deck and watched a large coyote in the lower field. Sighting the coyote was not significant except that the coyote was tracking the same path that Micah had made the day before when he was outside playing in that field. Micah was never out of our sight when he was playing in the field, but a chill went through me as I realized that he would not have known to run if the coyote came at him while he was out there, nor would he been able to call for help.
Today, many years later, I still panic if I cannot see Micah when he is outside. When he is so inclined, he will step into my sight to show me where he is when I call, but he does not/cannot answer. Fortunately, I generally know where he likes to hang out when he is outside and I buy his coats in bright colors so he can be spotted more easily. I don’t panic if I cannot immediately see him, but safety is a constant concern.
In thinking about the Facebook post that I shared of the little non-verbal boy with Autism who was not found alive, I realize that I am linked to his grieving parents by the invisible cords of Autism. Their pain is shared with the realization that could have been my child. I can only pray that in their grief they know that others are still so very saddened about the enormous loss of their precious son. My prayer is that they can grasp a vision of him now sitting on the Lord’s lap, laughing and talking about his adventures just beyond the veil; waiting patiently for the day that he is reunited with those who ache to hold him and hear his words at last.
Jan Lessard Peightell June 17, 2021