I Hear Your Smile and Breathe Your Light

And if I listen to the sound of white, sometimes I hear your smile, and breathe your light. Yeah, if I listen to the sound of white ...
You're my mystery. One mystery. My mystery. One mystery.

Missy Higgins

When I first heard that song it took me back to when Robin was very small and we didn't share a common language. I could just sometimes get a glimpse of my son - but then he would be gone behind tears, a tantrum or a wall.

The lyrics still bring a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes every time I hear them. I realise that we are very lucky that Robin can laugh with us and will come and hug us, albeit on his terms, and that many parents with autistic children really do have to listen to the Sound of White to hear the smile and breathe the light of their children. I don't actually know what the lyrics are about, but it just hits home to me.

Not that it's all plain sailing, although we have come along in huge steps with Robin there is still the odd bump in the road. Just recently Robin bit a friend who had come for a play. They were playing rough and tumble and Robin was pinned and couldn't get up. His response was to bite, which we hadn't seen for quite a while. He was upset and knew that it was wrong, but then you have to tell that to his little friend.

Later I explained to Robin that, as he was the older of the two, he should be leading the way in terms of behaviour and that it was never acceptable to bite. It's hard because he said 'Mum, I couldn't move. I didn't like it.' I used to say when he was younger 'use your words not your hands', but now that he is 9, that sounds babyish. Just like when I say 'use you eyes not your fingers', whenever we go anywhere or see anything that catches Robins attention. He is a very tactile person.

I often think that if we were still living in England I am sure we would be going to National Trust places at the weekends. Thank God we aren't, most staff in any of those places would probably need medical assistance if anyone so much as breathed near any precious objects, or maybe we would spend most of our time in the gardens?

Having said all that, I am so proud that despite the dreadful storms, Robin happily survived a week of Cuboree up in the Dandenongs last week. Although they had to spend two nights in the storm shelters and abandon their tents due to the winds, he had a ball and came back full of chatter and covered in mud. I look at this gorgeous boy and think how far he has come. That he could go away for 4 nights under canvas, deal with a storm and the fact that there were 6,000 kids up there, and still come back with a smile and a coin for doing a good turn - shows me how far we have come.

I breathe your light Robin. xxx