We Worry

One of the first and most prominent slaps across the face I have received since Waylon was diagnosed was the day he was denied for a life insurance policy.
What? My son is healthy. He doesn't have cancer, or juvenile diabetes, or even asthma for pete's sake.
But he has autism.

We've always joked about our "wayward son". He is an escape artist at it's finest. Much like the orange slices in the gas station, there is no stopping him when he's made up his mind.
His ability to wander away unknowingly is just downright scary. To help us sleep at night we latch the deadbolts, set the door alarms, and dose him with melatonin. We used to have an enclosed bed for him- but alas, the escape artist could escape it. We have special bracelets with our phone numbers and we have a tracking device that can be safety pinned to his shirt if we are at a strange place. We keep the car doors locked in the summer, so he doesn't wander outside and get in a hot car. We keep the car doors unlocked in the winter, so if he were to escape on a cold night he could at least get inside a car. When we leave him with family we always remind them to lock their doors. We worry. Oh, do we worry.

A 2012 study by the American Academy of Pediatrics showed that Waylon is not alone. Nearly half of all kids with autism wander. Their website explains the study further:

Of parents whose children had eloped, 43 percent said the issue had prevented family members from getting a good night’s sleep, and 62 percent said their concerns had prevented family from attending or enjoying activities outside the home. For 56 percent of parents, elopement was one of the most stressful behaviors they had to cope with as caregivers of a child with ASD, and half said they received no guidance from anyone on preventing or addressing this behavior (American Academy of Pediatrics, 2012).

I'll admit it. Last summer, at a family reunion in Colorado, he escaped. Worst five minutes of my life. He was there, I swear he was right there beside me on a bench. And then, all of a sudden, he wasn't.
Although it felt like ages, I'm sure it was just a few minutes before I spotted him about 200 yards away, just trotting down the road giggling and flapping his arms, oblivious to the frantic yells or throbbing heartbeat of his Mom who was sprinting towards him. He had found his tracking device and pulled it off, annoyed by it's extra weight on his favorite sweater. He was headed toward Grandma and Grandpa's cabin, no doubt dreaming of the cookies she had shared earlier in the day. You see, he has no sense of worry, no understanding of danger.
But he has to understand, I thought. He has to know to never do this again. I was so busy trying to figure out how to get him to see how scared I was that I didn't pay attention to the bystanders gathering on their cabin porches, staring with astonishment at the lady who was screaming at a five year old who was laughing at her. Kids these days...
I couldn't even get him to look at my sobbing, grief-stricken face. He had no clue. He was hungry for cookies.

When I saw the first headline earlier this month, my heart sank. But by the time I saw the fourth this past week, my gut was wrenching. Mikaela Lynch was jumping on a trampoline in her backyard in California one minute and gone the next. Drew Howell spent his last moments on an Ohio camping trip with his family. Owen Black snuck away from his family during a beach vacation in Florida. And Freddie Williams slipped out of his home near Joplin, Missouri in just a t-shirt and underwear and wandered to a nearby pond. Four children with autism died last month alone from wandering and drowning. Four kids, just like Waylon. Four kids who loved to wander. Four kids who loved water. Four kids.

We worry, oh how we worry. We worry for these four families, whose lives are changed forever, and who will always relive those last few moments. We worry for those moments in our lives: the car door left unlocked, the deadbolt unlatched, turning my head for just one moment on that bench.
There was a river there, in Colorado. Waylon loves water. What kept him from wandering to it instead?
It could have happened to us.

Turns out, it happened to the parents of Jesus. He wandered off once. No doubt Mary was freaking out. I mean, God trusted her to raise His Son and she lost him. For three days. Although Waylon was only missing for a few minutes and not a few days, I can still relate to the grief on Mary's face when she found Jesus. Was she yelling at Him out of fear and relief? When He responded, "Why is it that you sought me?" was she searching for a way to help him understand? Were bystanders gathering on the temple steps to stare at Mary scolding a boy who was, no doubt, at ease with his escape? Kids these days...
But the brilliant, calm twelve year old Jesus
held the answer for his mother. In fact, He holds the answer for the mothers of all four of these children, now angels. "Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?"

Please join with me in praying for these four families- for peace and strength, and comfort in knowing their children have escaped their burdensome cloaks of autism and are enjoying eternal peace with their heavenly Father.

Parents of children with autism: please check out http://awaare.org/ for lots of great tools and advice to prevent wandering accidents.
And if any of you would like to to help, consider checking out http://nationalautismassociation.org/big-red-safety-box/ where you can donate funds to provide door alarms, ID tags and bracelets, and educational information to families of children with autism.