I had neither the maturity nor the knowledge to understand what
it the diagnosis would mean for my brother. The doctor's muffled words
;: "disorder", "disability
," and "sickness" were enough for a
n feeble eight year old mind to realize that something was wrong. After that day, my life
would change
d drastically.
Imagine waking up to a world where communicating thoughts, emotions and needs was the most challenging task. This is the world of Autism which my brother Mervin was thrown into when he was three years old.
As I have grown up As I grew, my brother's condition
has affected nearly every aspect of my life.
Independence was one of the first characteristics I developed as a result of my brother's condition. Because of
the constantly dealing with sudden tantrums and always trying to discern
ing what it was that Mervin was asking for, my parents have always been extremely
preoccupied. I have never been neglected
, but when it came time to attend football games or help with schoolwork, it was not unusual for me to manage on my own. On top of being the sibling of a child with autism, I am also the only other child. Sometimes I feel like I have all the disadvantages of being an only child without the assets of one with a sibling. Just knowing that I will never be able to play basketball with my brother the way
that most siblings do sparked jealousy within me.
AltThough hopeful, I am realistic
, and I know that I am solely responsible for the future of my family. Research will hopefully bring progress to combat the effects of Autism.
, [s]but[/s]Until then, I hold the burden of being the only one left to
successfully [s]carrying on perpetuate (??) my family name.[/s]
Patience and tolerance are two essential qualities that I have developed in order to cope with Mervin in certain situations. As other children complain
ed and fidget
ed in their seats, I would nervously glance at Mervin knowing that
at any time he
couldmight scream or giggle
at any time resulting in the unpleasant glares of the church congregation. What is more painful is having no way of showing others that he is not a typical child. If he were in a wheelchair, the people might have been sympathetic and tolerant, instead we were glared at with a look that said, "control your child, he is old enough!"
It is surprising how much an object such as a wheelchair could turn the annoyed stares to comforting eyes which say "I understand". When Mervin would scratch, kick, slap or even bite me, maintaining my composure was not always an easy task but I had no choice but to adapt.
I knew I could not just give up on my brother
; I only had to be persistent and improvements would come
in time. As I
have matured, i began teaching my brother how to do certain tasks that I took for granted. I could not stop myself from bragging to my parents when I taught Mervin to buckle his seat belt and remove it. Seeing Mervin pronounce simple words like "no", or even nodding his head to acknowledge something was an accomplishment.. When I see the frustration in Mervin's eyes after he tries repeatedly to pronounce the word "water" or explain why his head hurts, anger, sadness and disappointment flood my thoughts. I think "why
my brother?" but I will never give up hope.
Jeannie Elliott