I don’t know if I would be able to fully prepare my typical children for what’s out there in the real world if Ronan hadn’t been vaccine injured.  Teaching them this side of life’s lessons are painful—lab work, poop analyzing, sleep disturbances, dietary infractions, special education, constant therapy—how has all of Ronan’s abnormal become part of their normal?  The siblings wish their brother had never gotten hurt.  They don’t like to hear that other children are vaccine injured and have school struggles and autism.  They see that Ronan is missing out on some stuff they and their friends naturally get to do.  It pains them to know that other little kids can’t talk, can’t go to the bathroom by themselves and can’t go outside to play by themselves.  Even though the struggles can sometimes outweigh any ounce of hope, these beautiful children of mine consistently pray for Ronan and for kids like him. They believe with all of their being that every single one of them can one day be recovered. 

With a stronger grasp of how our lives are so affected by what did happen to Ronan I make a point to share all sorts of stories that hit the autism news wires with my kids.  I don’t always shield their ears or eyes from the atrocities that happen in this community.  We still pray for Robbie even all these months after his rescue (and, we will probably always pray for him because of how close to home his story was to our family).  They hear about the restraint and abuse in classrooms.  They know programs are in place to help people, but my kids know that other people take advantage of those programs and ruin it for those in need.  I think it is important for my family to hear the horror stories in order to fully understand the reality of where Ronan’s life could take us.  The scary stories are the hardest to share, but it reminds us to be vigilant in our efforts to keep Ronan healthy and safe. 

When he is safe, Ronan is free to learn, to build upon his growing skills and to shine with success.  We’ve been fortunate to celebrate several amazing new skills that emerged in the latter part of 2011.  Ronan has gotten to be in the limelight with parades around the house for learning how to sign more words and how to correctly spell them.  His latest accomplishment?  Ronan is voluntarily typing and writing more of the words he knows.

With his new-found skill and desire to write Ronan got a dry-erase board easel for Christmas.  After a few “Mommy homework” lesson at the new easel Ronan looked at his younger sister and wrote her name on the board.  He produced long, beautiful letters strung together perfectly.  A real-live legible word!  The name of a sibling.  The one sibling who is his perfect mini-therapist.  The one child who makes wishes on the first star in the night sky so she can hear his words again.  Ronan made a quiet connection with her, and he did it naturally as if he’d been writing her name for years.  She screamed with glee and danced around the house.  Dumbfounded is how I looked as I stared at Ronan and his perfectly printed proof of progress.  Proud and full of joy then enveloped me.

I love the days that make my heart sing and my mind race as I look for more Ronan success.  I’m proud of his accomplishments and how they affect the entire family.  We all thrive on the positive that exudes when we get to see Ronan in a glimmer of normal.  I couldn’t do any of this on my own—it’s much too much for one person to do or to bear.  Thankfully my husband and I have a few kids underfoot who willingly contribute to their brother’s trials and achievements.  We all get into a good groove when Ronan turns a corner.  He’s working it, and I think he knows that when he does something fabulous it gives the rest us a great sense of hope for all of our futures. 

When Ronan builds upon his development my oldest takes note.  She has started to volunteer more time to play with Ronan.  She’s trying to roughhouse with him and grabs him to do some fun dancing games.  I wish she could remember back to the time when it was just her and Ronan.  Ronan was her little “baby” when she was a toddler.  He played alongside her with her tea party set.  She got the baby and toddler toys out for them.  She snuggled on the couch with Ronan to watch Disney shows before naptime.  She brought peace and happiness to her little brother.  It seems so long ago now, but I’m pleased that she is searching ways to find new connections with him now. 

I was so proud of Ronan’s Big Sis when she watched me open this link last week:    Her eyes widened.  Her smile brightened.  She whispered in awe, “Oh! WOW!”  As she stared at her brother’s picture I saw her eyes light up with pride.  She was looking at a child who has suffered beyond comprehension.  She knew why it was so important for us to have that Big Red Box-- because Ronan’s wandering is part of our family’s normal.  She knows that that child keeps us all grounded.  He reminds us to not take life for granted.  He teaches us lessons we never knew existed.  He makes us wonder, and yet he makes us jump up and do.  He adds the most stress, emotional heartache and financial strain as well as a whole bunch of heart-overflowing-with–love loving.  He keeps our family intact.  Ronan gives us a reason to believe.  Yep, that’s my boy. 

Cathy Jameson is a Contributing Editor for Age of Autism.