Missing Pieces

I feel like I am failing my son. It is my job as his parent to fix what is wrong and I don’t know how. I wonder if the puzzle piece that represents autism doesn’t also apply to those of us who love someone with autism. Sometimes I picture my heart as being made up of puzzle pieces and there are some missing. My mom writes on puzzle boxes if there are any missing pieces, so that when they do that puzzle again they aren’t searching for them. Are the missing pieces of my heart the same? Gone forever and there’s no point in searching for them?

I feel so blessed every day that God chose me to be my son’s mother. I had no idea how much love I was capable of until I had him. I also had no idea how much pain that loving someone could cause a person. It hurts so much to see him struggling and to not know how to help him. I would give anything to make his life easier for him and to lighten whatever burden he’s clearly carrying. He can’t tell me what is wrong or what he’s feeling and I can’t even imagine how lonely that must feel.

We are all fighting our own battles whether they are physical, mental, emotional or spiritual. For some of us our battles include all of those elements. I never imagined that my life would be so full of tears. There have been times that I didn’t think I could survive being so pulled apart. Never knowing if the decisions that I am making for my son are the right ones.

There are days that I feel like I can’t breathe because the weight of the worry is so great. I fear that I’m making the wrong decisions for him and he isn’t able to tell me. Am I keeping him safe enough? Is he happy? Does he know how much I love him and that I would do anything for him? Questions I may never have the answers to…

I believe that there must be a purpose for the pain. A reason that I feel as though I am precariously standing on the precipice of life and trying desperately to cling to any branches swaying in my direction. Maybe that purpose is to help others experiencing the same storms. Or maybe it’s something entirely different. Sometimes I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff- just trying not to fall off.

I have hope though. I believe that there are brighter days ahead. I believe that my son is capable of so much and that he has big dreams. And I believe that someday he will be able to share those dreams with me and maybe then the missing pieces of my heart will be returned and I will feel whole again.