​The turkey is coming, the turkey is coming! And my son could care less. It’s almost Thanksgiving, and for many, this is the most cherished of all the holidays. Family, food, parades, football, shopping and no school/work, so, what’s not to love? Well for my kid, change. And Thanksgiving is full of not your run of the mill day to day change.

Last year, my sweet sister hosted Thanksgiving and she made sure to check in on what Ryan needed. My heart melted when I walked into her kitchen and saw that along with the turkey, the stuffing and the mashed potatoes, there was a pot of water waiting to boil my son's Velveeta Shells and Cheese, which is HIS Thanksgiving Day tradition. With all this preparation and all this love for my boy, he still had a meltdown because, yep, you guessed it, change. You see, this was our first Thanksgiving at my sister's house and I didn't think to give Ryan an assigned quiet place when it all got to be too much, so when it all got to be too much, he shut down.

He (we) got through it and went on with our day, however, Ryan wasn't truly himself until we pulled into our driveway and he ran up to his room and began happily scripting the lastest meme he loved. Back to his space. Back to his routine. For years, these less than stellar moments would plague me for days, but, not so much anymore because I try so hard to not compare my Thanksgiving day cornucopia to yours.

The cornucopia has become symbolic with Thanksgiving. Many tables will be adorned with fall colors, fine dining ware and perhaps in the center of it all, the cornucopia or The Horn of Plenty. After all, Thanksgiving is the time we are to be grateful for the abundance of good we have in our life. Our cornucopia is said to be "overflowing".

There was a time though, that I cursed the cornucopia, feeling that the cornucopia at my Thanksgiving table still had plenty missing. Yes, I had three healthy beautiful children, a great husband, supportive friends and family, a job I loved and a beautiful home, but, all I could see was what was missing. It was hard for me to see the abundance of blessings in my life back then.

All of my friends' cornucopias were filled with play dates, activities, kid parties and on Thanksgiving, turkey, so, without all those things for my son, my cornucopia felt kind of empty. When your child is autistic, those things do not come in abundance, but, so many other things do, if you are able look past what you think is missing, you will see all that is there. My goodness, how did I not see my "overflowing" cornucopia?

Looking back now, I'm ashamed of all I didn't see. The challenges my son overcame, the fears he fought head on, the progress he made and the love he gave to me in abundance. In abundance. I spent so much time focusing on what I felt was missing, not what he felt was missing, that I was in fact, the one who was missing out on so much.

It took me a few years to see that not everyone's cornucopia is filled with the same blessings. Blessings come in different shapes and sizes, but, they are blessings none the less. If I could go back in time, I would grab that cornucopia and whack the old me over the head with it, but, since I can't, I will call my sister and thank her again and remind her she does not need that extra pot this year, as we will be at my in-laws this Thanksgiving with our box of shells and cheese in tow.

We will be sure to have a quiet place for Ryan along with his Velveeta Shells and Cheese and whether or not my mother-in-law adorns her table with a cornucopia will make no difference to me, because I know how blessed I am on Thanksgiving Day and every other day of the year. Yes, my cornucopia is indeed overflowing and since my kid doesn't eat turkey and stuffing, my plate will be overflowing with his share too.

For years I held out hope, maybe THIS will be the year he will try a bite of stuffing! Maybe THIS will be the year, family members won’t nag him to “try it”. Maybe THIS will be the year the stares and whispers of why I bring Velveeta Shells and Cheese and let him eat THAT will be stifled. Maybe THIS will be the Thanksgiving my son feels comfortable and welcome. Maybe THIS will be the year, friends and family can hold the “but”.
 
It’s funny, I gave up on THIS being THE year, years ago, because I accept and understand my son, but, we all have those family members who think that maybe THIS year things will be different, which translates to, HE will be different. If you have one of those family members, feel free to print this out and put it on the table as a sort of placecard for guests.
 
THIS Thanksgiving won’t be any different than last year because:
 
1. He still has autism. 

2. He has made great strides in sooo.. many areas and we are sooo... proud of him, but, his diet isn’t one of those area. 

3. He still has autism.
 
4. He may now wear khaki pants instead of fleece pants to the Thanksgiving table, but, he still is not putting wet, soggy stuffing in his mouth. Nope, didn’t happen last year, isn’t going to happen this year. 

5. He still has autism. 

6. I know his diet isn’t great, he knows his diet isn’t great, but, what his brain knows and what his body feels don’t match, and your pumpkin pie isn’t going to sway that connection. 

7. He still has autism. 

8. We are so proud of all that he has accomplished, both academically and musically this past year, and we know you are too, but, making District Chorus and getting a B in College Prep English won’t make your mashed potatoes any less lumpy to him. 

9. He still has autism. 

10. Can you believe he went to the Homecoming Dance this year and danced with friends and stayed over an hour?!! Wow, right? Yeah, he has made some gains socially, but, he still isn’t eating “even just a tiny bite” of that turkey. 

11. He still has autism. 

12. I’m thrilled he filled you in on the upcoming musical he is a part of and I LOVE how grateful you are for getting him to chat with you for a few seconds, but, his sensory system is still so sensitive to different food textures that his taste buds think your cranberry sauce will kill him. 

13. He still has autism. 

14. I love that you see how hard he is working, how much he has grown and in sooo…many areas, so this year, how about just commenting on all of that, praising him on all he has accomplished so he and I can hold the buts because… 

15. He still has autism. 

Ryan had autism when he was a picky toddler and he has autism as a teenager and is still just as "picky" when it comes to eating. He is not trying to be difficult, he is not "spoiled", he is autistic and his taste buds don't "feel" food the way yours and mine do.

​Some day, my son may try a bite of turkey, some day he may think that the pumpkin pie tastes as good as it smells, but, that will be on his terms if, and when, he is ready. So, I would love it if THIS is the Thanksgiving YOU change so my son doesn't feel like his progress is diminished by the "buts" while you pass him the rolls because he will absolutely eat one of those, no buts about it.

In the early days, when I was scared, when I didn't understand, when my son was struggling so much, it was hard to give thanks. It was hard to see all that was "right" when I was so focused on all that I perceived to be "wrong".

When I worried about him scripting, I couldn't hear him communicating. When I obsessed over his limited eye contact I couldn't see what he needed. With each and every behavior that was "different", I cried out "What is wrong?", so I couldn't see all that was right.

I was blind and my son was trying so hard to help me see. 

Much has changed since those early days, thank goodness, and I have learned that there is so much in my life to be thankful for then, today and tomorrow. Ryan helped me take the blinders off, so now it is easy to see all that is in front of me, and most importantly, all that is in front of him.

As a parent who finally "got it", who finally came to see her son in all his beautiful glory, here are a few things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving and the other 364 days of the year:

1. Awareness. Mine and yours. Whether it's a puzzle piece car magnet, a blue light in April or a teacher who sees past the label and sees my son, I am thankful that the word "autism" has come out from the shadows and we are shedding a light on supports and services for autistic individuals by raising awareness.

2. Education. From family members, to friends, to police officers, to emergency service personnel, people are asking questions, people are taking the time to understand that people living with autism are not bad, or wrong, or less, they are just different.

3. People who "get it". Oh, how I am thankful for the people who get it. The people who don't ask why, but, ask how. How can I help him learn? How can I help him feel safe? How can I let him know I care? How can I support his needs? These folks are at the tippity top of my thankful list.

4. Kindness. Not everyone will ask why or how, not everyone will want a brief Autism 101, but, everyone can be kind. I am thankful beyond words when I witness such kindness.

5. Acceptance. Learning to accept that we all have differences, that we all have areas of strengths and weaknesses and accepting that those differences make us unique and amazing, not "weird" or "bad". Accepting that there are different ways to learn, live and love.

6. No judgement. It's easy to witness a situation, such as a child who seems much too old to be having a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store, and quickly judge the parents and the child whom you do not know. I am so grateful to those who choose to offer help from up close, rather than judge from a distance.

7. Music. Music held the key for Ryan to find his voice and open a door. A door that may have forever remained closed without music. I am so thankful for the power of music and the effect it is has on my boy's confidence. 

8. The Teacher. You know the one. The one who got him from there to here. The one who you know had their paths never crossed, your child would be traveling a very different road. So thankful. So very, very thankful.

9. Forgiveness. All the times I messed up, all the times I thought I finally knew just how to help him and support him, only to realize I didn't. All the times he forgave me because he knew each and every misstep was made out of love, an all consuming love just for him.

10. Patience. Yours, mine, but, mostly his. Patience while we: became aware, educated ourselves, helped others to "get it", remembered to be kind, learned to accept our differences, reminded ourselves to help rather than judge, found an interest that opened a door, waited for The Teacher to come along, and sought forgiveness for all the times we got it wrong.

Yes, I am thankful for all of these things and many, many more, but, mostly I am thankful for my son who proved to me that there was never anything "wrong", other than my perception of what was "right".

So to Ryan, thank you for giving me the opportunity to learn from you, to advocate for you, but, mostly to love you. What a gift you are to me. 

Thanksgiving is hours away which means turkeys everywhere are running and hiding hoping that they have survived one more year not resting alongside your sweet potatoes. Some turkeys may seek shelter with deer, unaware that the poor deer's time, come Monday, may also be limited. If these turkeys had any sense at all, they would run or fly (how well do turkeys really fly?) and take up residence on the White House Lawn, hoping that they too will receive a Presidential Turkey Pardon.

Each and every Thanksgiving, the White House turkey is pardoned and rather than lopping off it's head, the President opts to use his free Giant Turkey coupon after scoring so many Giant Bonus Points and allows this turkey designee to spend it's Golden Years roaming the turkey pen at Mt. Vernon.

There is some debate over who the first President was to pardon our Thanksgiving Day main dish. Some say Lincoln unofficially pardoned the bird when his son Tad had become so attached to the family turkey that he couldn't bear to eat him. Still others believe President Kennedy was the first to pardon a turkey when he returned the White House turkey after he said, "We'll let this one grow" and sent the grateful turkey back. Rumor has it, that it was George H. W. Bush who actually used the term "pardon" when he excused the White House turkey from the Holiday "festivities". A pardon, really George? So, I guess I am to assume that if President Bush pardoned this turkey, the turkey must surely have gobbled, "I'm sorry" right before he said, "yeee-haw"!

A pardon is forgiving someone for an "error" or "offense". And don't you think that most people before pardoning someone, wait to hear the words, "I'm sorry" or "forgive me" or at the very least, "wow, what I did sucked" from the wrongdoer? Does the White House turkey show remorse or apologize for being who he is? He can't help it he was born a turkey. He shouldn't have to apologize for tasting so good next to your stuffing and mashed potatoes, but, if this turkey is being pardoned then surely he must have done something wrong, right? 

I can't help but wonder if this lucky bird has to apologize in order to, literally, save his head or is it just assumed he is seeking forgiveness since, after all, he lives in Washington and so many folks living there feel remorseful for their wrongdoings without every uttering an, "I'm sorry" (Bill Clinton aside)? What about all the other turkeys? The turkeys in Idaho and Maine? The middle class turkeys who are equally as guilty of being exactly who they are meant to be, who can't utter an "I'm sorry" and whose address alone will not get them a pardon?

One of the many things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving Eve is that Ryan is NOT a turkey. First, we don't live on Pennsylvania Avenue and second, Ryan has almost as much trouble uttering the words, "I'm sorry" in order to seek a pardon, as your average middle class turkey. Relax autism advocates, I am not comparing my beautiful son to a turkey, well, in a way I am, but, please wait for my point before taking to the internet and flogging me.

My point is, when Ryan commits an "offense", an "error" or some type of "wrongdoing", getting him to apologize in order to receive a pardon is like getting a turkey to talk. There is some part of autism that grabs hold of Ryan's mouth and clamps it closed and will NOT allow the words, "I'm sorry" to come out. I wholeheartedly believe Ryan feels remorse when he hurts someone....sometimes, but, saying he's sorry is extremely difficult. I don't know if admitting wrongdoing is hard because understanding the social implications of his offense or error is difficult to grasp and he believes what he did was "right", or if somehow in Ryan's mind, uttering the words, "I'm sorry", is relinquishing one of the few forms of control he has in an otherwise chaotic world. The control of being "right".

It could be something as minor as ramming my heels with the grocery cart. After I stop cursing, Ryan may mumble, "You were in the way." or "I didn't do that on purpose.", but, he will not say, "I'm sorry.". Is that enough remorse for a pardon? Then there are bigger errors, like when Ryan slapped his sister's four leaf clover right out of her hand when she was just happily and proudly sharing her good fortune with him because he doesn't "believe in clover bringing good luck". When such an offense caused his sister's heart to fill with sadness and her eyes to fill with tears and he refused to apologize regardless of our "intervention", ok, fine our threats of removing all electronic devices, yet, still no apology, should Ryan be pardoned?

For Ryan, "I'm sorry" is like talking turkey, if he doesn't believe he has committed an offense why should he say something he doesn't mean? We have all been there, the one to "give in", the one to "say it first", but, even if it's like swallowing a turkey bone, we can say the words, "I'm sorry" when we believe it and even when we don't because we know it is either the right thing to do, or the thing that brings peace back into the house.

I believe that 90% of the time Ryan does understand his offense and I believe he is "sorry", but, just like so many other emotions when it comes to autism, how Ryan shows this remorse, looks "different, not less". As Ryan gets older, he is getting wiser. He understands that sometime he has to do and say things that may not feel comfortable for him, but, in order to move on, he may need to feel a little uncomfortable. 

Just because Ryan struggles to utter the words, "I'm sorry" doesn't mean he should be pardoned for his errors or offenses without first trying to understand the implications of his offense. Yes, autism may make understanding how Ryan's actions impact others more difficult, but, autism is not a free pass to a free pardon. Ryan's lack of belief in a lucky four leaf clover, did not excuse the heartache he caused his sister. It took days to get Ryan to understand how he hurt his sister, and I do believe he "got it", but she never heard the words, "I'm sorry". What she did hear, was his voice being a little kinder than usual the next day.

Just like the turkey can't help who he is and where his place is in the world, or on your dinner table, people with autism can no more help who they are either. Not showing remorse does not mean they don't feel it. The words "I'm sorry" may not come out of their mouth, but, the White House turkey doesn't say them either and they still get a break. Just like the Presidents of the past and the Presidents for years to come will continue to show compassion to a turkey and pardon said turkey for being who they are, we too must show compassion for people living with autism. We must try to understand and pardon them when they may not be able to find the words I'm sorry when they ram us with a shopping cart, but, can find the exact words to let us know how hideous we look with our latest hair style.

Unlike the Thanksgiving Day turkey, Ryan is remorseful when he has done something wrong and he can sometimes quietly, in a barely audible voice, and typically in a scripted language, say the words, "I'm sorry" even if it feels like someone is pulling his wing off. 

So, on this Thanksgiving Day, I'm not trying to make you feel guilty when you eat your unpardoned turkey, but, I'm asking you to take just a moment to remember that the turkey can't help who he is and he may not have been able to apologize in order to get his pardon, but, that doesn't mean the turkey isn't sorry that today, of all days, he couldn't find the words, "I'm sorry". If I have instilled a little turkey guilt, you might just want to stick with the sweet potatoes, I hear they show no remorse....ever.