Photographs And The Pursuit Of Happyness

There is a campaign going around on Facebook called "100 Happy Days." A couple of my friends and co-workers have been participating and, as I have followed their posts, my curiosity has grown to say the least. Last week at work I finally asked one of them what it was all about. She went on to tell me that there is a website you go to and register (http://www.100happydays.com). Once a day, for 100 days, you are to post a picture or simply write a post of at least one thing that makes you happy. The idea behind is that there is enough going on in the world to steal our joy and bring us down. Can we be happy for just 100 days?

I figured, why not? There's no cost. No adverse side effects. Quite frankly, considering what I have been dealing with as of late, a little bit of happiness sounds pretty good. So I went to the site, registered, and away I went.

Yesterday I posted some pictures of me and Matthew before he headed off to school.

What then? 

75 people hit the "like" button. There were at least 17 comments (well...14..3 were mine).  I could not believe it. I figured I might get a handful of "likes" and maybe a comment here and there but this was not anything I'd anticipated. To many these pictures are nothing more than a mother with her son. Ah! but they are so much more!

These pictures are the evidence of the road Matthew and I have both traveled, of a time when I could not touch my son, hug him, kiss him, show him any kind of affection. A time when I could not tell him I loved him without him pulling away from me, running down the hall screaming, throwing himself on the floor and hitting himself in the head. A time when I was so heartbroken for not being able to tangibly show affection to my son I actually believed he hated me when all it was was my own lack of knowledge for the sensory issues that accompanied autism. He loved me. It just hurt him physically to show it.

15 years later, I get hugs AND kisses. I get tickled. I hear my young man's voice say, "I love you, Momma." Up until about 7 1/2 years ago, his voice was silent. I loved him as much then as I do now. But oh, how my heart sang when I heard his voice for the first time!

That's definitely something worth being happy about!