Doppelganger

Every once in a while, my mind wanders ahead to an unknown, mysterious time in our lives -- the future, more specifically Jakey's future. What will he look like? be like? Will his mannerisms have advanced? Will he be potty-trained? Still have echolalia? Where will he live? What will he do? Will he be able to communicate better? more than his needs? Will he have a job? Mostly I wonder if he will be happy and if he will continue to live with us. Ms. A, his teacher, has stated that she thinks he will be able to live in a group home. Will he? Will we want him to? I try not to go here that often. It's an empty place filled with conjecture and fear.

[What's echolalia? Echolalia is an unconventional verbal behavior that is common among children with autism spectrum disorders. Echolalia occurs when the child repeats verbal information stated by others (e.g., people's conversational exchanges, videos, books read aloud, songs, etc.).]

I long for a day when I may meet another mom who has a son like Jake, but her son is older, and she has been through it all. I want to hear her stories and tell her Jake's. Someone who can unveil some of the mystery, give some hope, and help with realistic expectations. Someone who can listen and talk and truly understand. Empathy given and taken.

Today is Baby Day at the Movies in Kirkland, and Finn and I made the 25-minute trek to join a bunch of moms and babies in laughter while watching Couples Retreat, fun flick. A group of teens/young adults with special needs were there to see Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

One of the young men caught my eye, and I almost fell over. He looked like an older version of Jakey, same hair, similar face and eyes. He even had some of Jakey's quirks. Echolalia was present. The young man repeatedly said, "I love you," "I love me," and various sounds that I couldn't decipher.

He was handsome and sweet, and I just wanted to go up and give him a hug. I wanted to talk to him and find out all about his life. I kept staring at him and smiling. To excuse my staring, I told the woman next to me that he resembled my son, but she didn't understand that the resemblance went beyond looks.

The young man's companion was brusque with him when they walked up to the window to purchase their tickets. I can't deny that I wanted to deck him. Somewhat out of place since I've been brusque with Jakey on numerous occasions.

By the end of the movie, my mind drifted back to Jakey's doppelganger and Jakey's future. I wiped my tears, sniffed a bit, and packed up Finn so that we would be home before the kids' buses arrived. Tears and sniffles all the way home.