I recognized the hand grip as you were walking up with your son.
The matching Spiderman suits were another giveaway.
“Hey guys, Happy Halloween!”
“He’s nonverbal, I’m sorry. We’re working on it.”
Somehow my heart sank and I was filled with hope and admiration for you at the same time.
I remember the first few Halloween experiences. He wouldn’t wear a costume, so we’d opt for pajamas that served just fine. He didn’t say anything when he walked up to each house but he was enamored with the process, and I get it. It’s a weird tradition when you think about it. “Don’t take candy from strangers” except on this weird holiday where people are all dressed up in random costumes that may or may not make sense. In which case take all the candy and make sure you say thank you or else they’ll think you’re rude.
It’s easy to throw in the towel on holidays when you have a special needs child. You make excuses that they don’t care or it’s too hard or some other reason you come up with and you just don’t go, and that’s okay because you gotta make the call that’s best and sometimes that is what’s best.
But Spiderman and his Spiderdad didn’t throw in the towels on Monday. They were walking through the neighborhood and Dad was apologetic each time he walked up to a house explaining why his mini-me wasn’t obliging and saying “trick or treat” or thank you. And damn my heart broke into a million pieces for him, because he didn’t need to apologize that his son wasn’t following the expectation of what “should” happen during Trick or Treat. I hate that we’ve created a world where if you aren’t following the normal procedures of activities, you’re wrong. There’s no room for someone to be able to celebrate the fact that mini Spidey was out doing the damn thing. He was Trick or Treating. He was participating and I have no doubt that fact was something for his family to celebrate and feel proud of, and instead his dad spent his time apologizing for the lack of words from his son.
Sometimes those little victories are the biggest ones.
It’s why I call them big little victories.
From the outside looking in, getting a kid to go Trick or Treating doesn’t seem like a big deal.
From the inside- there’s so much that goes into getting a special needs child to partake in something like that. What costume are they going to wear? How is the costume going to feel on their skin? What’s the weather going to be like? Are they going to try to go inside of every house? Are people going to judge them for not saying thank you?
I wish there was more grace and more understanding of the fact that everybody’s on a different path. I wish there was less black and white and more acknowledgement of the array of gray that exists in the world. I wish we could make the box bigger so more kids fit into it instead of making parents feel like they need to apologize when their kid doesn’t. I wish Spider-Man and his dad knew how much I admired them on Monday night. I don’t know what his future looks like, but I know that he’s on the right path. I know his dad loves him endlessly and will continue to do the best thing for him.
When his dad apologized to us for the lack of words when I gave him candy, I said “hey don’t apologize. You’re doing the right thing. Keep going.”
I hope he knows I meant it.
I hope he knows I’m going to keep fighting for his Spider-Man.
And for my Sunflower. (For the record, it’s from Plants vs Zombies. He’s not a botany fan, just a gaming nerd.)
ahoybluesailor.com 