OUR JOURNEY IN CAMO SHELLY HUHTANEN

Friends in Scary Places

In my mind I have grabbed the back of my friend's shirt and I'm inching forward as she clears the path. I lean my head into her back, hoping that she helps me get to where we need to go.

I have a friend who has a son that is 22 years old with severe autism. I lean on her more than she realizes. The feeling is almost like having an older sibling. She must do everything before I do, so I watch her carefully. I'll ask her, "If you could do it over again, what would you do?" Once she reflects, I'll take a mental note and write it down, so I don't forget. I don't have an older sibling, but that seems to be the only way I can describe the relationship I have with her. The landscape parents who raise children with severe autism maneuver through is thick, intimidating, and confusing. I picture my friend with a weed whacker and power saw tearing down anything in front of her. If she needs to change direction, she will back up, reassess the situation and then start again. In my mind I have grabbed the back of her shirt and I'm inching forward as she clears the path. At times, my head is down too tired or overwhelmed to look ahead, so I lean my head into her back, hoping that she helps me get to where we need to go.

"We left our son alone at home tonight! Gosh, I never thought we'd get to this point. He's 22 years old and he's successfully home alone tonight." Wow. I couldn't believe it myself. My friend asked, "Do you look forward to that happening some day for you?" I shook my head in disbelief. I did tell her that Broden continues to change and grow. It's the little things right now. He's got this thing for cashew milk ice cream. He'll pick out what flavor he wants in the grocery store and throws it in the cart. He'll then wander over to the candy aisle and

grab a bag of candy that he can eat and tosses it in the cart. He remembers what ice cream he bought. I'll catch him in the kitchen ripping the top off the ice cream container, opening the silverware drawer to grab a spoon, and shove a few spoonfuls of ice cream in his mouth. We're still working on him closing the freezer door, closing the silverware drawer, and not putting the dirty spoon back with the clean spoons. Mark and I are still confused about the bag of candy he grabs during each grocery trip. He wants to buy candy but won't eat it. We have about six bags of candy stacked in our pantry

unopened.

JOY RIDE: Broden enjoys his ride to his clinic with his Dad for a change; "Severe autism is a unique landscape with challenges that are difficult to explain to those who do not care for those with the diagnosis. Mark and I remind each other that we need to comfort one another, because it's ok to be scared."

After I told my friend about the changes and progress Broden has made, I said, "It's funny. I'm still amazed at what Broden continues to do, because 15 years ago, we were told that the window for Broden to make great strides would start to close around 6 or 7 years old. In the beginning of Broden's life, each birthday was almost like a funeral. That was one more year that my son wasn't meeting the milestones like his peers did. My friend smiled and nodded, "Me too. I did the exact same thing. I was so stressed, and you're right. I was sad each year my