Well, here I venture back to blogging. I've missed writing and thought I'd start fresh with a brand new blog.

When I blogged before I did it as My piece of the puzzle. I kept that blog off and on for about three years. I started it when my son was just shy of turning five and he's 10 years old now. I began blogging to chronicle my son's progress as he grew and to talk about our life as we dealt with raising a child with Autism. Along the way I wrote of my mom's cancer returning and presenting itself as a terminal case and her subsequent fight and loss to that disease. I wrote entries as I tried to forage ahead with a new and different life without the person who was our strongest source of support. I posted about losing my dog of over 15 years and how losing him was hard and how I tried to not dwell on his loss. A coping mechanism kicked in and I instead did my best to focus on how lucky we were to be blessed with the wonderfulness that was Gizmo for so long. Somewhere along the way I began to lose interest in writing for a blog that was associated with some of the darkest times of my life so I stopped. Well, that and life interfered and made writing a harder task to do. Life is still hectic, but now I am trying to make time to do this. Sooo.. here I am writing again and hoping I will enjoy it as much as I did before.

 Here's an into or a refresher if you had read my old blog:  My name is Renee and I am the mother to a sweet, goofball of a boy named Nick. He is the most loving person I've ever known in my life and for the most part just radiates happiness and joy. He's an only child and the focus of my life as it should be. He was diagnosed with Autism in May 2005 three months before his 3rd birthday. He began intensive in-home therapy that lasted until he began kindergarten and resumed for a few years after that after school. ABA (applied behavioral analysis) therapy made a HUGE difference in his behaviors and greatly improved his attention span to the point where he could sit still and focus in a classroom setting. Without all of that therapy I shudder to think how he would be today. He lacks the verbal ability to communicate on his own and uses either a speech program on his iPad or my phone or PECS (picture exchange communication system) cards at school to get his needs across. I had hoped by this point that he would be more verbal but he has yet to progress to the level where communicating with him is an easy task for most to do. I accept him as he is and refuse to give up hope that more words will come as he gets older. If they don't we'll deal with it because we really don't have a choice, but I hold out hope that they do. A blogger I follow recently said something that struck with me. He said that he loves his son but hates the autism. I can relate as I find it very difficult to not detest something that makes it so hard for my child to do the simple tasks that others take for granted, like speaking. I love everything about Nick including the quirks he displays that are associated with being autistic, but the condition itself can really, truly kiss my ass. I'm a strong supporter of Autism Speaks and other advocacy groups and would do anything I could to help them promote Autism awareness and get the word out about how common it is. I think that the more people know about it the more they'll be accepting for the behaviors and difficulties of the differently abled people that live among them. That's my hope at least.

But, in the meantime I don't hesitate to tell anyone off if they cross the line with any kind of negativity towards my son. I had an experience last year in the grocery store with a horrible old woman who insulted my child and made me wish to slap the ever lovin' crap outta her. She displayed a level of ignorance and intolerance that nobody should have to deal with. The fact that she demonstrated what a close minded person she is towards my son made me sick, but I have a feeling others have experienced it too and that's very sad to me. I am very protective of Nick and feel like since he doesn't have the vocal ability to defend or express himself that I have to use my big mouth to get the job done. He wasn't bothered in the slightest by what that woman said to him or the stares and snickers we've received out in public but I was and just can't sit back and let people do that. I'm not the boldest person in the world by any means, but mess with my son and you'll unleash an in-your-face loudmouth little fireball who will tell you exactly how I feel.

I am hoping by starting this new blog that I can try to move past the things I wrote about in my previous one. Some things are harder to move on from like the loss of a parent. I still miss my mom everyday and really feel her loss during the times when Nick does something that I know would make her proud enough to burst or when I am having a super challenging day where a mom's guidance is what would hit the spot. Moving beyond that and dealing with the finality of her passing is hard but necessary to keep going.


Her 60th birthday would've been last month and I wrote this about her:


She was a born fighter. Born three months premature and only weighing some three pounds at birth, she came into the world already showing the spunky, determined spirit that would define her personality for the rest of her life. She fought for her life with that determination until her body just couldn’t take anymore and began to shut down. Even with her internal organs beginning to fail she lasted five days and let those around her know she was ready and wanting both her struggle and her journey here to end. Hearing her say that was very hard to those who loved her, but it was something that everyone understood as she had fought so long and so hard and just wanted to be at peace and not have to deal with the pain anymore.

She wasn’t a person that anyone who knew her would have ever expected to pass away in that manner. Small in stature but not in spirit, she was a force to be reckoned with her whole life. She endured the loss of both parents before her late twenties and raised two children on her own back in the days when child support was considered an option and not the mandated thing it has become. Doing both of those things wasn’t easy and could’ve crushed the spirit of someone who didn’t possess the strong will that she had, but she persevered and made it through.

She worked hard for everything that she had and never came upon the finer things in life that she so deserved. None of that mattered to her as she wasn’t a person for whom material things really mattered at all. She saw beauty in the simpler things and appreciated kind gestures more than store bought gifts. She had a wide circle of friends and many of them were people she had known for years and years. If she loved you she accepted who you were and would back you to the wall if needed. If she didn’t love or even like a person she wasn’t shy about letting that be known. Bullshit and all forms of pretense did not have a place in her world, and she had no hesitation about enforcing that as a rule. Tough as nails on the outside, she was a softie when it came to those who mattered most to her. At the top of that list was her grandson. To say she was anxious to become a grandparent is an understatement. She excelled in that role and built a very special bond with her grandson. Having him in her life made the last six years her best ever. Her grandson was diagnosed with Autism a few months shy of his third birthday and her faith in him never wavered. She knew he was special before the diagnosis confirmed it and she treated him the same as if he was typically developed.

This person that I am writing about is my mom and my son’s nana. Had she lived she would’ve turned 60 today. She deserved to live a long life but died a month before she would have turned 56. She and I were barely 17 years apart and I always assumed we’d grow old together as we had grown up that way. We didn’t always have the best relationship, but connected as two grown women around the time I turned 30. Our bond was strengthened during my pregnancy with her beloved boy and really flourished as he grew. Like many women, I felt like I understood my mom much better after I became one myself and I most definitely appreciated her more.

It’s been a little more than four years since she passed and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her, wish she was still with us, and just genuinely miss her. I wouldn’t want her back as she was prior to her death. She was miserable and deserved the reprieve from the pain that death provided. I’d love back the way she was pre cancer. She was strong, vibrant, and always full of life. That’s how I chose to remember her when I think of her. Her last days were only memorable in the sense that I drank in the sight of her in because I knew she would be gone soon. I spent many hours with her that last week when the end was eminent and I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world. I wasn’t there when she passed and I know now that that was what she wanted, and that it didn’t just play out that way because it happened when I went home to spend some time with my son.

The hardest part of losing her was that I felt like both she and my child were really being cheated of so many good years together. I was too to some extent, but I had many more years with her than he did. Like my son, I was six when I lost the grandparent who played the biggest role in my life. I have very fond memories of my paternal grandpa and still think of him often. I hope that Nick grows up with as many special memories of his Nana. I still talk about her often to him. She was very big on hugging and kissing him so often when I am doing that I tell him that this last kiss or hug is from your Na, as he called her. She worried that he’d forget about her but that will not happen on my watch, I guarantee that.

A couple months before she died she told me how she had watched one of the telethons benefiting children with cancer and called in to donate to the cause. She said that, to her, the children battling that horrid disease were the true heroes and the ones she felt the most sympathy for. She was being cut down in her prime by that, but the children who died from it didn’t even get the chance to live yet. I have thought about that since she told me and think it’s a true testament to her character that saw it from that vantage point. She could’ve wallowed in self pity at her lot but she didn’t. She didn’t have it in her to do that and never did. I think about that when I am having a crappy or extra challenging day and tell myself to snap out of it. If she never went down that road and she rightfully so could have, then I very well should not just because things aren’t going my way.

So, to the birthday girl I say this – you’re very much loved, you are missed beyond measure, and tonight Nick and I will blow out a candle from the birthday cake I made in your honor. I wish you were here to enjoy a slice too.


I posted this here because I am proud of the way it came out and writing that is what made me think to start blogging again and opening myself up to share my life and child with anyone willing to read it and get to know us better. So, thank you for reading and I plan to write as much as possible, even if it's just to gripe about having a crappy day or brag on something cute that my kid just did. Crappy days happen often, but I have a child who provides me with enough entertainment to make for some funny posts and keep me smiling in spite of it all.