He has always been a cuddle bug. As a baby, he loved to burrow into the crook of my neck, let out a milky sigh, and nod off to dreamland. He will snuggle in bed, on the couch, and latch on like a sloth if you’re on the move.Continue reading“Hold me tight: #thisisAutism”
In muddy colors and broken smiles, love is all around us.Continue reading“Love in the time of..”
She’s on vacation and he misses her terribly. I know even if he can’t always tell me.
When school lets out, he looks for her around the house. “MinnieMinnieMinnie” he chants in his singsong voice, zooming from room to room on his little scooter.
Shh..shh..don’t cry, baby girl. I’m here, darling. I’m right here.
I stop bawling and blink at your face. The world is blurry; the air leaching any semblance of warmth from my body . A thousand sounds ring, clank and beep around me. I smell you and burrow into your chest. You are familiar. You are my home.
Oh Amma, let me cry.
He was an autistic 8-year-old; not fond of animals. She was a feisty corgi puppy, determined to bite everyone in her path.
He screamed. She herded. He cried. She cocked her head and squeaked. But nevertheless she persisted.
Continue reading“Nevertheless, she persisted -a true story.”
“Big black eyes and tiny nose,
I love you down to your toes.”
I hummed my daughter’s favourite rhyme while waiting at the Clinic. Nirav had finished his appointment and Anne, his therapist came out the swinging doors.
“He’s doing so well, Pavi! Did y-”
“Anne, I’m worried!”
