The stares. The constant sneering and leering. The malicious whispers directed toward my loving family who have more patience than any monk. I saw the look of disapproval rather than one of simple misunderstanding. During my brother’s meltdowns and hoots and hollers, during his flapping and flailing, they didn’t see the brother that would wipe your tears off your face if you were crying, that stands in the doorway when he sees you come home, who gives you kisses on the cheek when you ask for them. They didn’t see the sweet smile that would grace his face when he was happy to just be there. They didn’t see his intelligence that could match mine if he could only talk to tell everyone what he knew.
My brother was diagnosed when I was five years old. At this age, I didn’t quite know the impact it would have on me because I didn’t really understand what was going on. Not really. I knew we had to visit doctors and go to speech therapy. Regardless, I was as excited as any big sister would be and I refused to treat my little brother any differently. To my mother’s annoyance, I wanted to change his diaper, I wanted to play mommy and take care of him, however, despite being a baby, he was almost as big as I was so carrying him like I desperately wanted to was most certainly out of the question.
As a result of my brother being autistic, we connected with the local support group in my area when I was only six years old. I was then introduced to other kids just like my little brother. At age six, I saw how wonderful all these kids were. How intelligent. How all they would want is a hug. How they would grin like it was Christmas morning when you just talked to them and asked them to play with you. I saw these kids at their best and at their worst and it didn’t change my mind on how beautiful of a human being each and every one of them was.
They taught me how to be patient, how to be kind no matter what, how to be understanding, to be gentle, and most of all, how to love unconditionally. My brother taught me how to love him through his meltdowns, how to love him when he is blabbering and I feel like I can’t take anymore, how to love him when we play video games. I let him win every time.
I know what it’s like to be loyal. I have defended my brother and all other special needs children and teens my whole life and I have no intentions of stopping anytime soon. It is my biggest hope to spread the same unconditional love that my brother has given to me and spread it to those who are mean-spirited and do not have the patience or love that I do, that my family does, regarding these amazing, gifted, and loving children.
