Sand and Waves

 

Last week we went to the beach. It has always been a place that I find peace. Rex used to love going down to the beach and playing in the sand. But things changes and one of those was his desire to go outside. He hated the wind and the sun. It was always too cold or too hot. Our little guy loved to spend time outside, but by the time he was 4, we couldn’t get him to voluntarily go outside. So we would go to the ocean and watch from a distance. We never went down to the beach anymore.

But last week was different. He wanted to go play in the ocean. So we made the walk down to the water. No swimsuits. No towels. Just a bucket for shells and a very skeptical mommy.  Rex trailed behind as Woody, 6, and Buzz, 5, ran on ahead. Then the sand turned cool from the water and Rex’s face lit up. He didn’t run, he flew into the water. No fear. No hesitation. He jumped right into the freezing Pacific Ocean.  And he smiled. He laughed. He giggled. He grabbed Woody’s hand and pulled him into the waves too. Rex does not initiate play with his younger brothers. He prefers to stay on the sidelines as they play. But not today. Hand in hand Rex and Woody jumped the waves and laughed and splashed. And when Rex turned around, I saw my boy behind the autism smiling back at me.

I read somewhere about writing your worries in the sand and watching as the waves washed them away. So I wrote autism in the sand and I wrote regression in the sand. The waves came up and washed those words away, just like they were doing for Rex out there in the surf. In those moments there was only joy and happiness. A half hour of pure childlike fun.  I cling to those memories, to that face looking back at me and smiling. It gives me strength in the times of darkness that have followed.  I am reminded that there will still be light in our lives, no matter how dark the night.