And on we walked

Charlie walking in the treeshade on a long walk
Once again in the 'how Charlie motherhood has changed me' vein, which is pretty much a constant theme behind this blog:

Monday was a day of teaching, teaching, talking and more teaching from 9 to 5, give or take a minute here and there. In Elementary Latin, we needed to finish going through all six tenses of verbs in the passive voice and review the active voice forms (I made handouts—-nothing like visual aids that you can hold and scribble on). Then translating from Virgil's Aeneid with another student. Then various advisory matters during which I had to wonder for the thousandth time why it requires about 5 steps to retrieve a voice mail from my office phone. More passive voice and then working on a letter and a report and more talking (involving this book so of course I couldn't keep myself from going on and on). Then attending a mini-symposium with some 20 students giving brief presentations on their topics for their senior theses next year.

Add the fact that yesterday was still unseasonably hot (in the 80s) and steamy with rain in sheets falling out of murky gray skies while the sun shone down—many a mega-puddle required gutter-jumping to go from and to the PATH train in Jersey City; I'm afraid I turned on the air-conditioning in my office, which is in a rather agèd five-story brick building that once upon a time housed apartments and whose walls and doorframes regularly expand and contract with the humidity so the doors don't shut.

I was more than glad to see the white car, Jim and Charlie in tow, pull up across from the train station just before 6.30pm.

No sooner had Jim parked in front of our house than Charlie asked for a walk. He'd already led Jim on a 12 mile bike ride, looping back and forth in the streets, pedaling pell-mell. I ran in to set down my bags in the house  and change my shoes and off we went. Jim betook himself to the grocery store to get a few items.

As Charlie and I neared the path beside the field where turning right means 'long' and turning left means 'short and towards home, Charlie set his head down and — mindful of last night's kerfluffle — turned right. 

I noted that the sun was out and bright and it was fine to go further, if he'd like.

Charlie directed his steps right.

We moved slowly past many a leashed dog and her or his owners, under the train trestle, over some railroad tracks, across the barren parking lot. It was warm, and I walked behind Charlie.

And a light wind came down from off the treetops, and it was quiet, and we moved on.

4 Responses to “And on we walked”
  1. Joss Cravates says:

    I never normally write a comment but just wanted to say thank you for your blog… I’m a mother to an autistic child too and have been reading your blog for a few weeks now. And along with the Medikidz’s random autism comic book that my children recently discovered, your blog has been such a refreshing find… Thank you for continuing to raise understanding for our children through your captivating writing!!!

  2. David says:

    First of thank you for this Blog.
    Charlie would maybe enjoy Special Hockey. He appears to be very athletic. My six year old autistic daughter finds comfort with physical activity, such as swimmming, running and ice skating. We have found the more active she is the less behaviuor issues we will have. Special Hockey has been a great help to her and the best part is that she loves it. There are four Special Hockey teams in NJ. Feel free to e-mail me if you would like more info.

  3. autismvox says:

    Would love to find out more—Charlie tried ice skating once, needed a lot of help balancing. He tends to be less drawn to sports involving sticks, bats, etc.. But I will contact you, thank you!
    Thanks so much, I’m really honored to know you’re reading! I hadn’t heard of that comic book; I will look it up.
    Very warm wishes!

  4. Jill says:

    I’m glad that Charlie did well at the dentist but poor you, having to walk farther than you’d anticipated!
    You must be in great shape by now.

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