I’m happy to share that I grew up a little this year.  I was very well prepared for the season of waiting and preparing, and on time, too! (I have two more boxes of candles – gifted to us because of my candle shenanigans – that ensures us of at least two more years of Advent Wreath success).

While taking out the boxes from the storage closet, I had to move several other boxes and items out of the way first.  An old mini-trampoline, some luggage, my old teaching items, baby clothes we’ve stored away, and a few boxes of toys.  With each thing coming out of the closet, I made a mental note – when I do this again next summer, I need to remember what to keep, toss, and give away.  I want to go through everything again when I have hours and hours to sort through what we’ve been holding onto.  I can pare down what we don’t need, like some of that old teaching stuff I have used.  I’d love to keep some of the toys for future grandkids, but we can donate some of them to families in need now. 

I was careful when lifting and moving the last box.  Its weight had me sliding it across the floor instead of lifting it.  It was the LEGO box, and it was chock-a-block full!  My kids loved and still love to play with those, so that box won’t see the giveaway pile anytime soon.  While getting that out of the way so that I could get to the Christmas boxes, memories took me back to when the kids would play more often with these.  They had kits, they had random pieces found at thrift stores, they had a LEGO magazine delivery, and they had a LEGO store VIP membership (which, I think we still have) for product discounts and to get access to monthly mini-build sessions.  My children were hardcore builders, and I loved it.  Ronan even got involved, and I loved our LEGO pieces even more. 

I’ve been working on my final paper for my grad class all week, so any extra time I have has been consumed with writing.  Each night, I’ve sat on the couch next to the Christmas tree reading and rereading topics about disabilities, special education, and tying my teaching experience in.  I’ve been typing, editing and typing some more.  When I finally had time on Friday at 10:30pm to sit down and work on today’s post, I honestly had no idea what to write about.  I knew I didn’t want to write anything more about disabilities and special education.  I needed a bit of a break.  Right before bed on Friday night, I did a quick news search online to see if something sparked my interest.  I was surprised to see the term invisible disability in a few headlines.  I was pleasantly surprised to see LEGO and that term paired together.  Too tired to do much more, I went to bed with the hopes of waking up early to get this post ready.  I’m grateful to have slept through the night and woken up refreshed early on Saturday morning.  Saturday would be a full day of writing – this post and completing my final.  But first, more reading beginning with the article about the LEGO minifigures.

I don’t know enough about the Sunflower lanyard, but I like what that group has done.  I like what LEGO has done as well.  After reading, I immediately looked for this photo.  I took it and shared it
years ago with family and friends.  Back when he was wearing noise-cancelling headphones, it’s uncanny how this minifigure looks like Ronan.

From the article, Lego has now partnered with Hidden Disabilities Sunflower, which is the company behind the symbol which provides a discreet way of sharing that you have a hidden disability voluntarily and is recognised in more than 90 countries.

The company’s website carries an invisible disabilities index and it says there are more than 900 ranging from autism and ADHD to dementia and Parkinson’s.

For my son, people can visibly see his disability and sometimes pretty quickly.  Most are respectful, but other will stare rudely.  I can see that the campaign of making more people in the world aware of invisible disabilities is needed.  If creating LEGO bricks and minifigures can make positive awareness happen, then I’m in support of that. 

With the steady rise of autism numbers still rising, my hope is always that the world will be not just aware of autism though.  My hope is that the world will act and do something to prevent more cases.  I don’t wish for much at Christmas, but I will always wish that one day, the rate of autism and other invisible disabilities, like ADHD, will decline.  

My prayers when we light the Advent candles are similar – for Ronan, and for other children like him, to be fully healed.  It’s a constant prayer and one that I’m willing to continue to say long after our decorations are put away.

Cathy Jameson is a Contributing Editor for Age of Autism.