It has been ten years since we started walking for autism. We were desperate. We still are. If I were to analyze why we first made the decision to "come out" and share our son's diagnosis, it was probably to secure validation. Certain realities were hard to articulate, yet when shared, we found camaraderie and understanding. The next step was the plea for research and awareness. Our plight continues.
Dear Friends and Family,
Paul and I went for a long walk today. I told him that I just didn’t know how I was going to write our Autism Speaks letter this year. He was quiet for a minute, and then said “I am just so sad that Nana can’t walk with us.” Holding back tears, I knew Paul gave me my answer.
There are no words to express our profound loss; yet my mother, Nana, remains with us every day. She was graceful and wise and we quote her often. It is with this in mind that I share her heartfelt belief about her Paulie.
“He’s so close, but so far”. “He is in my prayers every night.” “I pray for a cure.”
I am struck by the fact that my mother never knew autism in her lifetime, until Paul. I grew up without knowing autism, until Paul. Now, autism is a household word.
The numbers are staggering. One in 70 boys is diagnosed with this devastating disorder.
Paul stepped up to the podium at my mom’s funeral. He looked out at a couple of hundred people and spoke: “Nana used to sing to me…Paulie is a friend of mine, I can kiss him any time. For a nickel and a dime, I can kiss him any time.”
And so it is for Paul, and the thousands of young adults and children shattered by autism, that we ask you to please donate your time and “nickels and dimes” to Paulie’s Promise.
With research and awareness there will be a cure in Paul's lifetime, and my mom's prayers will be realized.
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