Light Me Up Blue

Yesterday was my birthday, and if I live to be exactly 90, I am exactly middle aged, plus one day. No fooling. Yippee.

And today is April 2, which means that two years ago today my Grampa died. (The rest of them say Papa, which is fine, but once upon a time it was just me, and he was Grampa, and I've never really made the switch.)  Makes for a disturbance in the force today. My tribe is hurting. We miss the leader of the band.

And it's World Autism Awareness Day. Light it up blue day. Blue feels about right. The school nurse called this morning, I saw the school number come up and I was like, seriously? Is he even off the bus yet? She wanted some insight into why they had to hurry and get him off the bus and figure out what all the hysterical crying was about. His ears look fine, his throat too. Any thoughts on what might be bothering him?

"HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW!!!!!" I screamed at her. Silently. 

Out loud I told her he's been fine, happy all morning. And it's completely true, but I feel like she thinks I'm lying, because maybe deep down I am lying, maybe there was something terribly wrong and I'm just in a constant state of denial. Even though I'm his mother and I'm supposed to know him to the depths of his soul and understand how to take care of him. So much for MY autism awareness.

But what does she want from me, he giggled and laughed and made kissy faces with me while we waited for the bus, he hopped aboard with a spring in his step, and that was that. Is it my fault I don't speak his native language, and he doesn't speak mine? Of course it is. Whose else could it be? Way to go mother of the year. 

Aren't you glad you tuned in?

But speaking of you... 

Do you have any idea how many of you wished me well yesterday? Sent me good wishes and sweet sweet words? Called me your forever friend, partner in crime, beautiful friend, Wonder Woman, beautiful wild woman, fabulous cousin, sweet friend, My Tracy...wonderful wife (last but not ever least). One of you even made me a tray of eggplant parm that I got to keep all to myself (timely road trip, dear husband...). On and on you all went, remembering me and being kind. 

And today, because of what today is, lots of you are posting pictures of my baby boy, because of how precious he is, and because you want everyone you know to know all about him. Know why he's worth lighting up the world about. Blue, certainly...and all the rest of the frequencies that make the colors. On the spectrum. An infinite spectrum of light that starts and ends with colors we can't even see. Yet.

And another thing, Grace hid in her room yesterday to take out her clay and fashion me a puppy in Mets colors. She even made it like he was made of tiny baseballs, but left out the stitching because she didn't want him to look like he had scars. She came to me and said, "I didn't make you a birthday present this year....APRIL FOOL!!!!!" 

Yes. Infinite spectrum of light that starts and ends with colors we can't even see. Yet.

So thanks for the hand up. All the hands up. Thoughts and words. And characters tapped out on a keyboard, or a touch screen. A little clay puppy. Sloppy happy kisses waiting for the short bus.

So many reasons to get up off the couch.

And so, I'm up.