My parents always had birthday parties for us kids when we were growing up (and beyond). In Mike’s case (my older brother who is autistic, nonverbal and low functioning), the parties I remember were at the Developmental Center or his Group home.
Mike loves food. He loves cake in particular. In fact when we visited him at Willowbrook and took him somewhere to eat, it was always a worry. We had to watch him all the time or he would steal food from other people’s plates. I don’t think he was aware of the idea of ownership: it was just food, and he wanted it.
I went to Mike’s day program one time when they were going to have a party for Mike. But I was not prepared for the outing to Waldbaum’s grocery store.
His teacher took the whole class there to buy the cake. Mike was very good. The teacher offered him several choices; one was a nice black and white-iced cake. He indicated his approval by trying to thumb his way into the clear plastic window of the box.
A good time was had by all and everybody liked the cake.
Your love for your brother comes across so strongly in all that write, I find it very touching. I enjoy reading your posts very much. I shall come back and comment on your other posts regarding mental health as you requested, but it’s a tough subject and I want to give you something constructive to work with.
Thank you so much, Maria. You have inspired my next post about love. I think I have an inkling of what it is, but I’m not sure.
I really appreciate all your comments and the fact that mental health is a tough subject that doesn’t always have a happy ending.
I glad to be an inspiration.