Diver just went off to a job interview. Not just any job interview but an interview for the job of his choice: firefighter for our hometown.
There he was, calm and composed in his suit, shoes polished, tic tac in his mouth, ready for what lies ahead.
It's hard for me to look at him, this quiet 6'4" sylph of a man and connect that person with the chubby, noisy, joyous, tortured boy who used to run around here.
It's like day and night: boy to man, short to tall, chubby to slim, tortured to calm.
We are one of the lucky ones; a family whose child came out of autism.
Diver once heard me say, "He escaped the prison of his autism," and insisted it wasn't a prison.
But I was there. And it was a prison.
We are so fortunate. I am so grateful.
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