This time of THIS year.

I'll just come right out and say it: I have felt a bit "off" lately. I love this time of year, the end of May. The flowers are blooming, the days are getting longer, the weather is getting warmer, and SCHOOL IS ALMOST OVER. Whoo hoo! As a teacher, these last few weeks of school are a futile exercise in herding cats - and I love every minute of it. However, I haven't felt the energetic buzzing of the end-of-the-year joy I usually feel. It's been mysterious in its elusiveness.

Elijah & Ethan, Class of 2014

The end of May is typically a time of endings and new beginnings. Seniors are graduating and moving on to college or other exciting endeavors. My mom and step-dad, both teachers, are retiring this year, venturing on to the next stage of their lives together. This time last year our twins, Ethan and Elijah, were graduating from high school...


 ...and then, like a ton of bricks, it hit me: Emmett should have graduated this year.

Emmett, had he been neurotypical and not autistic, would be graduating and moving on with his life. He'd be a proud graduate of the Class of 2015. This is one of those ultra-rare moments when I allow myself to grieve a little bit; when I permit myself to wallow in the "what ifs" and indulge in the "if onlys." It is a time when I wonder how different our family would have been if Emmett had been "normal" - I picture him driving a car that he bought himself from money he earned while working. I picture him laughing and hanging out with his friends, going to movies and parties. I picture him with a girlfriend who is caring and beautiful. I picture him walking across the stage, receiving his high school diploma. I picture him a thousand ways that he will never be, a thousand things he can never do, a thousand things he will never have...

Emmett in front of his school, the Grandwood Education Center

 

Then I snap out of it.

 


Emmett doesn't know what he is missing.



He's a pretty happy dude.





 So instead of planning a graduation party for Emmett, we are planning what comes next in his life. Yes, he will graduate - three years from now, in 2018, when he is 21 years old. Instead of going to college, Emmett is going to court, so Scot and I can become his legal guardians and continue to make decisions for him. Some day, maybe after he has graduated, he can live in a special home with staff who care about him - so he can learn not to depend on Mom and Dad all the time.

Emmett and his dad, Scot, at State Special Olympics.

One thing is for sure: Emmett will have his own adventures and achievements. This isn't about what our family is missing - having a son as special as Emmett . This is about Emmett having a life that isn't directed or determined by normal, neurotypical rites of passage and age-appropriate accomplishments. 

It is about him having his own life - but with help. 

And when he does graduate in 2018 (along with his younger brother), we will be having one SUPER graduation party.