Let me in

They say eyes are the window to the soul. I wish my son’s eyes had more in them than a blank gaze into a world that I’ve not been able to peek into.

It’s not just that Vedant does not notice the people (and things) around him. He simply seems to be in a completely different place most of the time, looking far beyond the horizon, into a place that is mystical and probably full of joy. I wish I knew where that world lies and what lures him into that world ever so often. If only I had a window to his cosmos.

I’ve always wondered what he thinks. He being non-verbal is not a big help either. Those eyes look like they have a question–a dream probably or maybe a prayer. I’m not sure. I wish I were. Sometimes, just for the sake of talking, I talk to him about different things…I talk about how his day might have been in the school, about who might be visiting us, about what we plan to do later in the evening or about our family back in India. I can see him intently trying to make sense of the deluge of words that I just threw at him, repeating the last word he remembered from that entire conversation, thinking that that was what was expected out of him from this long and perplexing series of sounds. He then retreats into his bubble, with that blank stare that takes him far away from me…again. It’s not that I don’t try. I really do, but then I am from a different world and he prefers a different one and we are still struggling to find a common place for us to meet at.

Occasionally he would let me in for a very brief moment and I see that gleam in his eyes, that recognition, that connection. What I would give to stay there longer, to know him better and to read his eyes.

He has sometimes tried to come to us and ask for stuff…stuff that we struggle to understand because we cannot make out his fuzzy words. He would ask for it over and over again and finally give up when I fail to make sense of his request. I guess he thinks we don’t understand him well enough and so he prefers his cozy little world over ours.

I wonder if those eyes have dreams in them; dreams of a better tomorrow, of going places, of meeting someone, dreams of hope and those of a beautiful life ahead. Do those eyes hold memories of our time spent together, with me, with his dad, with a huge family back in India, memories of vacations and careless summer afternoons, of playing in the snow and of cuddling together under a blanket….or do they wander off somewhere remote, where there is no reminisce of anything this worldly? I wonder if he would ever remember me when I’m gone. He seems so lost, so detached. If only he would let me in.

It breaks my heart that he is with us and still not there, that I will probably never know what he thinks, feels or wants… though I wish I do…someday. Of all the things Autism took away, the most painful is my son’s world that it snatched off of me.