Wishing for Love

What is it we want most for our children? Have you ever really thought about it? When you imagine your child at 30 years old, what do you see? You would think that these are easy questions, but they're really not. Because as soon as you start the list- happiness, good health, a family, friends, a fulfilling job.. you may soon realize that these are things YOU want for your child, that they may not even care about. I think the one thing we can agree on, is that we all hope for our child to know love.

I am often tormented by thoughts of my children growing into adulthood and struggling through agonizing attempts at finding a partner. Even more saddening is the worry that Owen or Will may never even want to make a connection with another person.

I have attended several autism conferences and have heard a man named Stephen Shore speak about the experience of having autism while being married in a fulfilling relationship. I left those conferences feeling hopeful that it can happen, but soon realized that those stories are few and far between. I feel very fortunate to have recently came across a wonderful young woman on Twitter. Lindsey is a beautiful soul who expresses herself so wonderfully. She has very courageously shared her personal experience and she is very generous in her insights and encouragement with parents like myself. She has given me permission to share this story with you all. I hope others find it as hopeful and inspiring as I have..

They’re Autistic—and They’re in Love
Lindsey Nebeker and Dave Hamrick each used to wonder if they’d ever find lasting love. Here’s how they came together—and how, side by side, they face the world.
February 2, 2009
by Lynn Harris

There are two bedrooms in the cozy Jackson, Mississippi, apartment: Dave Hamrick’s is like a dad’s den, with a striped beige armchair and a hanging map; Lindsey Nebeker’s is darkly girly, with spiky dried roses hung over a bed topped by a graphic leaf-print quilt. After work on any given evening, Dave and Lindsey are likely to be orbiting the home separately, doing their own thing. Dave may be flipping through magazines, pausing to stare fixedly at design details or leaning in to inhale the scent of the pages. Lindsey typically sits down to eat alone—from a particular plate with a particular napkin placed just so—and may slip so deeply into her own world that Dave has learned to whisper “Psst…” when he approaches so as to not startle her and, on a bad night, make her scream.