Treasure Chest

How does it feel to be autistic and dyslexic? I wouldn't know. I'm neither. But daily, I view the path my son walks as he navigates life with both. I walk beside him. I notice how his labels weigh heavily, how he carries them on his back like an oversize trunk as he trudges along.

His trunk overflows with wonders unfamiliar to the general populace. Yet society doesn't encourage him to rummage through it and find which valuables might prove useful to him. And useful to others. They know that his trunk lacks the commonplace contents in the orderly knapsacks of most people—tools for building, ideas for sharing, or talents and skills to propel their owners toward success (that is, if their owners utilize them).

My son possesses too many items to carry in a backpack, and not knowing how else he would haul these curiosities, the world issued him an unwieldy chest.

When I examine the treasures inside, I often shake my head in confusion. What is this, exactly? How is it used? Why would anyone need this? And yet, they are his items to carry. His to use. His obsessions that breed keen knowledge, his deep sensitivity, his compulsive tidiness...just a few of the prizes.

I watch as passersby look on him in pity, sorry for the burden he bears, and thankful for their compact pouch of goods slung lightly over a shoulder. I watch as passersby look on us with scorn. "Do something, for God's sake!" Their eyes communicate. But also, I watch as passersby smile at him, seeing past his load into the rich strength of the person beneath the weight.

And I accompany him, swinging my own little bag of trinkets to and fro as we walk. As we shift his load this way and that to make travel easier, an idea takes root.

Wheels.

His trunk needs wheels—wheels enabling him to even run with his awkward box if he chooses.

And after we remove the trunk from his back, together, we will study each distinctive component, one at a time. We will find out why it's special, why it's necessary, and how it can be used. And we will use it all. The process will take years...time well spent.

I don't know what it's like to carry a full trunk. But fortunately, my small knapsack contains the tools to love someone who does. It holds tools to make wheels.