“I’ve given some thought recently to having a cardiac stress test, due to family history.
Got it out of the way at 5:15 today when Jacob and I stopped at the Town Pump at Four Corners.
As usual, Jacob waited in the truck. As soon as I was at the counter, I looked out at the truck and saw the passenger door was open –
And Jacob was gone.
After a frantic search involving at least ten other customers and staff, we located him upstairs in a storage area. He had run in the other entrance, grabbed a chocolate glazed donut and a salad, and ran upstairs.
No chest pain, but an elevated heart rate and blood pressure, and some tears for sure …
A huge thank you to all of the people who helped me look for him, and thank you to God for protecting him.
In case I haven’t said it lately -
Autism sucks.”
Cliff’s words caught my attention that day. It was one of many stories I've read.
Stories about Jacob.
Words and stories that give a glimpse into the life of raising a beautiful child with autism.
There are days where small achievements are recognized with cheers and warm hearts. And there are days of despair, heartache, and great patience.
On the surface the stories reflect the dynamics involved in raising Jacob. Look a little deeper and you’ll see another plot.
A plot that quietly describes two characters who give more than most and love hard.
Jacob’s parents.
Cliff and Marilyn trust that someday everything will make perfect sense. But for now – they laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears, and keep reminding themselves that everything happens for a reason.
Jacob is their son. Like yours – he is their pride and joy. Proud of everything he does. Small things are celebrated. They know ... the small things really are the big things.
They may never hear Jacob speak, but that doesn’t mean they don’t communicate. They know Jacob hears their words and feels their kindness all the same.
Certainly they still grieve for him. For the things he will never achieve and experiences he will never have. Longing for a world of parenting they can only dream about.
But grief is not the focus.
It's love.
A fierce love and devotion to this little Superman.
These parents possess a bright light. A happy and grateful attitude. They are filled with eternal hope. It is noticed by all who know them. To them I give a quiet moment of recognition.
You have inspired us.
The wall on Cliff’s facebook page says it best …
What is your greatest contribution?
And what are we to learn?
Take a moment to reflect on your own relationship with children ... with friends ... with God. Is your heart soft?
Take a deep breath - and L O V E.
There is no room for judgment. We'll never have all the answers. Yes, sometimes life is hard. And ... learn to dance in the rain.
Lessons learned.
Watching Superman.
Video by Cliff Davis