Dear Sawyer,

I can tell you what you don’t remember. Like the time you were a baby and slammed your feet on your mattress that echoed through the ceiling in our kitchen.

My look of puzzlement would lead to a bout of laughter. It was always expected during the morning hours.

I thought it was cute and it would pass. I never thought it would be the beginning of parts of you that I wouldn’t understand.

At two years old, we would prop you up on a pillow to drink milk out of your cup. Your muscle tone was too weak to do independently.

At age three, we went to the most magical place on earth. However, the familiarity of Mickey Mouse brought you zero joy as you were overwhelmed by the crowds and the long lines.

Months later was your diagnosis of Autism. We finally were given a gateway to hope. With that hope, we began to understand the importance to being your voice until you developed one.

We watched the strides you made at age 4, age, 5, age 6, and age 7. From chewing food, to communicating, to going to school, and making friends.

We have watched you learn to read, learn to write, and inform us when we have taken wrong turns.

All the milestones are just a reminder that what we may not understand is just questions. Your ability to move forward and succeed is always your answer.

Whatever walls you encounter, you go through them. You continue to inspire us with your love and desire to work hard at all you do.

Age 8 is here. If you have noticed, you have made me understand that each year is a building block to where you are. And I can’t wait to see where this year takes us.

I love you,


One thought on “Dear 8

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