The Sings
On parenting, autism, and unrestrained delight
Where do you cast your light (aka energy, aka focus, aka intention)? What is it that brings you untethered joy, especially when nobody is watching? I’ve a bouquet of such things in my heart, but the biggest flower rig
ht now would have to be the sings. May I explain?
There are some tells. She needn’t speak. Autism tends to announce itself.
It’s her posture, head down and feet planted wide.
Her hands, making gyrations small and large, flapping, playing air piano, reaching for the comfort of my hair.
We’ve had some really dark times, for sure. She struggles with tremendous anxiety and OCD. I’m not writing about that today, though. I want to write about the joy.
The singing comes at home and in the car, on the swings and—another favored venue—the market. She has no self-consciousness. Zero. Which makes it doubly delightful. We’ve sung Que Sera Sera while waiting to get into Storyland in New Hampshire. She started, I chimed in, and we belted out that song while the short line ahead of us pretended we weren’t, in fact, gifting them with a surprise serenade. We’ve sung on walks at our favorite Audubon spot—Moose Hill. While I prefer to enjoy my nature in relative silence, if that’s not in the cards the sings are a sweet second choice.
These are no small sings. Nothing like the little hums I am prone to, when alone. These are voluminous! Gloried and mellifluous eruptions of words dancing to notes in lovely—I mean perfect—pitch.Some may snicker, some may stare. Can’t tell you how many because I simply don’t care.
When the dark clouds of anxiety part and a little sun shines through—when she is freer of the little terrors and obsessions that plague her—this is what I live for. These moments of great grace that feel like reprieve and taste like hope.
It’s only in the past five or so years that she’ll allow me to join in. What a delight this is! Quirky mother and quirkier daughter, doing decent justice to oldies and classics. These moments of shared song are serious infusions of good energy for me. When my voice meets hers, they flow like some wild river of songish joy. This is my freest salutation to God/Goddess/Universal Pulse, my dance-as-if-nobody-is watching. This is my untouchable rapture.
How about you? Where do you find an unreasonable gladness, beyond concern of censure or reproach? I’d love to hear, please do share.
–Melinda
My new book “Little Pockets of Glow” is out now! For signed, personalized copies: melindacoppola.com/product/little-pockets-of-glow-by-melinda-coppola/. Also available on Amazon and Kelsay Books
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