Mothers of the disappeared

This song, one of my favorite U2 songs, came across my iPod on my evening run tonight.

I hadn't heard it in a very long time, years possibly

I found the title fitting.

It's a quiet and somber song, and it made me think of our children struggling with autism, and the role of mothers. The children that sometimes seemingly are out of reach, living locked away in their own world, in a place where only they exist, and the mothers that work tirelessly to coax them into today.

Lately when I've had the opportunity to escape for a bit and run, my thoughts have been focused on the twists and turns Mason has faced on his path over the last nearly 3 years. He's stumbled a bit, fallen down, gotten up and dusted himself off and kept on running.

His therapies have really been helping him progress in the right direction and have made me cautiously optomistic about his future.

He's not as "disappeared" as he used to be.

My thoughts also turn to my wife. Rashele is always a bit more guarded about Mason's future. She's a fantastic mother, and like any mother, wants the best for him. I've often felt as a father I do less than Rashele does when it comes to Mason. She doesn't think that to be the case, but it's something I think of often. Her dedication to him is without limit, and at times can be a double edged sword, as it leaves little time for any of her personal extra curricular activities. I have to make her take time out for herself so she can recharge.

I credit Rashele for most of what gets done around here. She plays the role of Mother, Taxi Driver, Chef, Banker, Therapist, Cheerleader, Travel Agent, and Doctor. On top of all that, she has a part time job, that many weeks stretches into full time. Somehow she always finds the time for what needs to be done.

She's taught me many wonderful things over the course of our happy marriage.

I can even fold fitted sheets because of her.

I'm even a better father because of her.