|Me holding Flynn in the hospital. He was 1 day old.|
I don't think I've ever been as happy as I was in Flynn's first year of life. I mean, look at this kid - it's just ridiculous:
If there's ever been a kid who could dispel the stereotype of the withdrawn and isolated autistic kid, who lives a life without an emotional range, it would be Flynn. He's always been filled with an immense capacity for joy. I mean, just look at this kid. Again!
|I FREAKING LOVE THIS RATTLE|
|OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS ARE SO FUNNY!!!|
Okay, enough pictures. I think you get the idea. I love this kid. He's hilarious
Now, Flynn has a lot of extremely powerful emotions. As he's gotten older, they're nearly as often overwhelmingly negative as they are astoundingly positive. But we live for those times when he's the complete personification of joy. It's a powerfully contagious emotion, and one I hope to see a lot more of in the coming years.
As a dad, I try to be pretty relentlessly positive, but you can easily get caught up in the difficult moments and forget to appreciate the incredible blessing that fatherhood really is.
We're so lucky that we get to help create these little beings, and then watch them grow up to be. . . . whoever they are. We get to help shape their outlook, their perspective on life. To help them become complete people. That is an amazing responsibility.
I have so many hopes and dreams for my boys. Mostly, I hope they can do something that brings them joy and helps make the world a better place. Since Flynn's diagnosis, my dreams for him have developed, but have in no way diminished. In the next year, I hope to help him focus his energy on the joys and beauty of life. I hope to help him learn more about his gifts and strengths, and how to harness them. Most of all, I hope to help him find peace, joy, and grounding in a world that can be challenging for him to live in.
My boys are the best thing that ever happened to me. Understanding that makes my father's day a pretty special one.