It’s 2 AM, and my cup is full - not with coffee but with blessings (the java was consumed five hours earlier while driving home from a concert). I had just slowly awakened to the song - “The Rebel Jesus” by Jackson Browne. An earworm kept running through my head, but I was stuck on the first line: “The streets are filled with laughter and light and the music of the season.” I just couldn’t come up with the word laughter. In my half-sleep, I kept wanting to insert the word Magic.
My memories floated back to the night before - with my precious granddaughter on my lap, and my wife & daughter Lynn to my left side, we are watching my nine-year-old grandson, Nathan*, on a Christmas stage with fifty other kids. They are singing their hearts out. “Nathan” is not, and probably never will. He’s on the non-verbal “end” of the autism spectrum, if there is one. We watch as he smiles and makes a slow, but full turn to check out the voices behind him. Then, with his hand on his butt, he checks out the singers on the other side. The clarity & beauty of the voices surrounding him are almost painful, but it’s therapeutic.
(*Nathan is not his real name)
As my wife tries to dry her eyes, I see my daughter's loving arm wrap around her shoulder, and I silently pray. I’m praying, not for him to sing, but merely for a sign that he can in some way connect with those kids that are having silly fun all around him. Nathan turns again and I realize his pivot point hasn’t changed in over five minutes and that’s amazing progress for him. As the third song ends, the crowd goes wild and Nathan beams and joyfully claps. My daughter comforts her mom with a smile, adding - “he's having a blast” - and it’s true.
We make our way to their van and then back to their house. Nathan runs into the dark to his frost-covered swing. Ten minutes later he joins us for a parting hug as we head out the back door. My bride and I walk slowly to the car parked out front. As I get in, I notice silhouettes. Nathan and his mom are watching us from the front picture window. I wave like I have dozens of times over the years. I see Lynn point to us as she waves. And for the first time ever, my much-loved grandson waves back!
Is it any wonder that I can’t sleep and can only think of the word Magic?
Awwww, love it!!!!
We all have different challenges in life. How fortunate that your grandson has the kind of support system that allows for him to surmount his challenges in a safe, loving environment. I'm sure you have made a contribution to that, and I laud you.