"It doesn't take a lot of strength to hang on. It takes a lot of strength to let go." ~ J. C. Watts

There's this a distinct irony to my life.

I have been on many adventures (and misadventures) since the diagnoses - if you're new to this, yes, plural - and life is truly a journey, not a destination.

I won't repeat myself as I've covered this topic in "Fight when you know you're right" and "Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust" the latter title in and of itself is a sweet ironic twist of fate as tonight's topic was Disney characters and their ability to 'speak' to those unable to communicate verbally.

I had the honor of sitting down two weeks ago for an hour with a woman who is a true hero to those who can't, don't or won't speak for themselves; Cheryl Kilmer of TERI, Inc. Her tale alone could be an entire blog, but the point I'm attempting to get to is the invitation that was extended to me to attend a fundraising charity event tonight. My daughter asked to attend with me when she saw that an orchestra would be playing "DISNEY music?!!!" and despite needing to network and mingle for work, I couldn't say no to her request.

We sat down this evening in our generously gifted, assigned seats among several TERI residents and the gentlemen, presumably the father to the nonverbal man I sat next to, inquired as to how we came to be in the audience this evening. I explained that I was attending that evening in my role as Fundraising Director for a similar San Diego organization but that my introduction to TERI was actually through my daughter some years ago, "she has autism and currently attends Winston."
Being a spectrum disorder, I have learned to speak unapologetically or comfortably about my children who appear to be neurotypical by outward appearance to those whom have non-verbal children; especially those parents who are care-taking individuals clearly well into adulthood and nonverbal. We each have our own journey; I will not apologize for mine as its had its own set of trials and burdens.

This story she's heard retold for many years and each year grows a little more understanding of the weight of our journey together in raising her. You see TERI is a large support system in this county that offers residential living facilities for those affected by disabilities that prohibit them from living completely independently; in laymen terms, group homes for the developmentally disabled. This is where I was told to send my daughter - when she was 8 years old. I ended the brief conversation with this gentleman, as the lights dimmed, by simply stating "I chose music therapy instead."

As the speaker, Ron Suskind, took the stage he focused on his book, Life, Animated, his lecture and the Disney music montage to accompany his tale of raising his own sons; one affected severely by autism - his journey. He paused in his speech, asked the house lights be raised and asked everyone in the audience who was a sibling of someone with a disability to stand up. I watched my daughter stand tall and wave to the audience members proudly, among about a dozen other individuals out of about 800 attendees. He then recognized and honored these individuals as heroes; for their sacrifice, their understanding and their bravery that they faced their entire lives and how their lives have been permanently affected by sharing a home with a sibling on the autism spectrum.

What Ron Suskind neglected to ask the audience members to do at that point was remain standing if they  themselves were affected by a disability.

I can't say for certain that she would have been the only one who remained standing, but at the end of the evening when the gentlemen seated next to us closed the evening by asking me if speaking about my daughter in front of her the way I did made her uncomfortable, Madi smiled confidently, shook her head no, politely, and told him "it was a pleasure to meet you and your son."