Celebrate with a Cupcake Horse
Today, my son and youngest child, Feliks, is turning 19 years old. NINETEEN! Truthfully, there were days I didn’t think I could survive his childhood. And now, he is driving, getting his GED, training his horse, and talking about college. About six years ago, a wise mother of an older autistic kid told me that things would get easier when he was 19. It was hard to imagine because we were so underwater and drowning. But she was right. It doesn’t happen that way for every autistic child, because (of course) they are all different, but it certainly is true for Feliks. And I am thankful every single day. EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Feliks has gotten some much-bigger-than-usual-gifts for his birthday this year, including a horse. But I know he still wants some surprises for his birthday. It’s no fun to know everything you are getting, or having everything be for your horse. So all year, I listen to small tidbits of things he expresses interest in, to inside jokes that will make him laugh, and to things that will help him grow in some way. I wrapped some of those things up for him this week, and made a horse out of cupcakes for him to share with his equestrian teammates and friends. He specifically asked that his favorite chocolate cake recipe (veganized) be used for the cupcakes.
Someone asked me recently what my love language is, and I wasn’t sure if they meant how I show love or how I want to receive love. Perhaps it is both. For me, it is deeply listening and showing that I have heard you. And supporting what someone is interested in and passionate about. Feliks and I will start our knitting class together on Monday. He is getting a weight training journal because he wants to build muscle for riding, and he once told me how much he loves boiled peanuts when we passed a roadside stand, so I found a boiled peanuts t-shirt for him. It’s the little things that say, “I hear you.” The first gift Feliks ever bought for me on his own was a small packet of three green felted acorns, because he knew how much I love acorns. It was an extraordinary gift from a small, struggling, autistic boy.
For the people you love, listen deeply, make notes, and surprise them with gifts that could only be for them. They can create a deepening link in your shared language. And the best gifts are experiences.
By the time you read this, Feliks will already be 19. He was born at 5am (WITHOUT ANY PAIN MEDS, I MIGHT ADD, SINCE I MAKE SURE JOHN REMEMBERS THAT) on June 3.
I am curious: what is YOUR love language? How do you like to show and receive love?
