If God came to me and said "Carey would you change the course of your life?" I would say "No. But thanks for asking." And this is true. Life has brought me here, there, and many places I never really wanted to go. But, most of all, life has brought me here. So here I am, in Wells, Maine with 4 children I adore and a husband who I love completely. We have the ups, the downs, and the all arounds. And on this day in particular we have Molly.
Everyone of my children is something extraordinarily beautiful to me. I love them all with complete heart and soul. Which is how it should be. I favor none and I love none less. But with the simplicities of this natural occurrence comes the complexities of individually loving each one of them in a very special way. I am a pure mama bear who will protect each one of them to my death. And when action is called for protection I will pounce right on it. I have marched into the principal's office with my guns ablazing and my flags flying high protesting bullying, and ridicule of my children. I have fought the world and the cruelities it brings against children in general. And I have made conscience decisions to do whatever it takes to teach my children life lessons and be there for them to help cushion the blow when something hits them hard. So I would never take this journey of life down a different road. I am satisfied with the things I have and I am satisfied knowing that life will always be a roller coaster ride. Molly, on most days, seems to be the conductor of this ride. With Molly a dull moment would gladly be accepted, but will always fall short of making it to my doorstep. Molly reminds me every single day why parenting is the hardest job of all. She is a significant source of stress and impractical tears. But she is Molly. My Molly. The autistic barrel of cannonball fun. She rolls into town riding on the winds of chaos and leaves your town in reckless abandon. And you will always welcome it back. With loving eyes fixated on you she will make you question your own sanity, forgetting that sometimes she has lost hers, as well. So on this day I welcome her wholeheartedly to continue being her. I welcome back the everyday mundane repeats. I wait for them to come. And they always do. I wait every morning for Molly to say to me "Molly Mom where's Gretchen?" And to reply "She's at school, Molly." Only to have her correct me with "No Molly Mom she's at school her Mrs. Brown's class." And this will be repeated on the hour every hour until Gretchen has returned to us. In her mind she knows that this reassurance needs to be fulfilled in order to make life continue. In my mind I'm thinking "Polly the parrot has nothing on me." But if this is what she needs then this is what I will give to her. She is my color blue. She is my constant companion in the battle to make people understand that these children are special, but not in the institutionalized way. They are special in the way that makes everyday a new day. They may not act like we expect them to, they make not talk like we want them to. And that's fine with me. I declare myself bilingual, because I can not only speak English, I can speak autism as well. Molly's autism. When she asks for her red I know just what to get. And when she asks for her one I know just what she wants. And when the ignorance of people has taken its toll on me for the day, and when she sees me crying and asks "Oh no Molly Mom you okay?" I know exactly what to say to her. "Absolutely." In this moment I will always be okay.
On this day when you wear your blue make sure you know exactly why you're wearing it. It's not just a color to symbolize a day. It's a color to symbolize the fight that we all go through for our children. No matter how young or old they are. No matter their abilities and disabilities. We will always wear our colors to show the most important thing of all. These are our children and we love them for who they are and what they mean to our lives. So today when I wear my blues I will have the constant sound of Molly in my ear saying to me "It's blue autism Molly Mom." And as I grin and remember how she woke me up at 5 am screaming to find her pirate's hat my reply will simply be "You bet your sweet little cheeks it is, kiddo."
