Battle Scars

I have called my grandson Willie a warrior almost from his birth. Willie is scarred like a soldier who’s seen many battles. In truth Willie has had to fight battles. His premature birth set a tone to fight that continues to this day.

Lil W038_edited

Willie came home with a colostomy and a wound that needed washing and medication. Thinking about his screams of pain during those treatments still bring tears to my eyes.

Willie has a fading scar on his abdomen from the reversal of his colostomy. He has a tiny  scar on his forehead from an I.V. before he came home from the hospital.

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Both his arms are bruised from him biting himself in anger and the battles in Willie’s life continue.  After a meltdown on his school bus last week Willie had to come back home instead of going to school. This sent Willie into more of a meltdown. Once in the house Willie hit the ground running, literally. Then he slid fell backward and hit his head.

Willies wound                    Willies wound 1

Willie’s life will more than likely always be a battlefield full of injuries and scars. There is no padding the way. Self injuries and those accidental ones are unavoidable and my little man is so strong. His tolerance for pain is very high. He came home from the hospital and still jumped around with such impact that it shook the floor. This is a part of Autism. The high tolerance for pain. Some scars we know the reason for, others, we have no idea where they came from. It’s a constant search.It’s a constant wariness. Is he okay?  What happened here? No plastic bubbles or harnesses or helmets. Willie has to be free to run. He has to fall to pick himself up and to keep fighting his good fight.

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12 thoughts on “Battle Scars

  1. I’m always moved by stories like yours that most can’t understand. I used to teach at a Speech Development school. The main focus was Aphasia. Autism was also one of the main focuses. I met Christina when I was in High School. My mom was a children’s artist and her mom was one of her customers. I became so interested in her. I used to take her on outings. The day she came home with a balloon and told her mom what it was after working with her for the afternoon. Her mom cried. I was in High School, I was oblivious to everything until that moment.
    Christina’s school was an hour away. I began volunteering there twice a week. Later I was offered a job. One year, I began driving Michael he was Autistic but so much more. He was six and knew every freeway! And how to get to and from his house to his school.
    I was told that I couldn’t my class how to tell time. I thought if Michael can learn how to drive to his school and Christina can learn how to say balloon… I don’t believe that they can’t learn how to tell time. By the end of the school year they all had some pretty tattered construction paper clocks but they learned! I think in some ways they were brilliant. And that the parents (and grandparents 🙂 ) are their heroes!

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