Happy Father's Day!

So I'm writing my Examiner page the other day, about Father's Day, and I realize there is so much more I want to say about the subject of being a father to a special needs kid, but can't, in that forum. Even further, I realize that what I want to say is going to be sappy and sentimental, like so much written about Father's Day. And as much as I tend to get impatient with sap and sentiment, this time I don't care. He deserves it.

We know how hard it is to parent a special needs kid, and that having a child with autism comes with its own unique brand of difficulty, in that emotion and affection can be practically non-existent. Imagine your child never telling you he loves you. Excruciating. A huge part of being a parent is that feeling of being loved and needed, of having someone in your life who thinks the sun rises and sets on you. That's a pretty powerful emotion, and one of the reasons the human race is not extinct (ask any mother if they'd go through pregnancy and childbirth just for the heck of it, and you'll have your answer on that!)

I have met so many fathers of autistic children, both as a parent and as a professional. Some were wonderful, supportive men, who loved their children unconditionally. Some were struggling with the issues, and were not always present or supportive. Still others are completely absent, as these men simply cannot handle the job. Those that we know who have stuck around, who have been good fathers who simply love their families, no matter what, are to be treasured, as we all know the divorce rate among parents of special needs kids is much higher than for the rest of the population.

As for my own husband, he is, quite simply, the best father I have ever known. Of course I'm biased! But any man who says to his sobbing, grieving wife when she receives that dreaded phone call (you know the one - "we think your son has autism"), "I don't care what his diagnosis is. He's my son, and I love him just the way he is" is a man who is beyond compare. This big, tough guy, who polices NYC for a living and can scare anyone with a glare, treats his son like he was a precious treasure. The son who will never play centerfield for the Mets (he bought the baby a tiny baseball mitt when he was 5 days old), who will never beg to be taken to a ballgame, who will never be all the things my huband envisioned when he learned we were having a boy, it doesn't matter. This boy is his son, and that is all he needs to know to love him more than he loves life itself.

So from the three of us to you, sweetheart. You are the best, and we love you. Thank God for you.

P.S. Your daughter - the one who is growing up way too fast? She can't wait for her graduation trip to Disney - the one you alone are taking her on. Because she wants to spend time with her beloved father too!

Love you!!!