A Nice Place to Visit

We take Jude to therapy. Occupational therapy to help him be calm and learn life skills. Speech therapy to teach Jude to have a conversation instead of speaking in his TV program code that only makes sense to us. Behavioral therapy to help him be more 'organized.'

I am all for therapy, really. Jude has come a long way in just a few years. It has helped us to help Jude. But there are times when I look at my son, and I wonder what it is like in there behind his eyes.

It is not as if Jude has no imagination, and the only time his brain is working is when he interacts in a way that makes sense to us. I am convinced that there is a whole world in there, a magical place that he created since our world is so hard for him to decipher. We spend so much time working to get Jude to understand and act appropriately. I just wish he could tell me what he is thinking.

I know a few of the rules and bylaws of Judeland. Wheels and transportation are everything. Patterns are important, too, and the color red is all over the place. Shaving cream and hairballs are outlawed, and hair clippers are the stuff horror films are made of.

I like to think it is pretty in there, and it must be fun, otherwise it wouldn't be so darn hard to get Jude to come out. I like to visit, but my visa only lasts so long, and then I am deported. I guess I need to learn more about the language and the culture.

Today is Valentine's Day. A few of our friends' kids gave Jude Valentines. I was pleased they remembered Jude, but Valentines are not big in Judeland.

Early this afternoon my husband brought me a bouquet of flowers garnished with a plastic heart on a stick. Jude gasped when he saw this, and took the wand out. He waved it around, and closed one eye to look at it through the other. Laughing softly, he did a dance with the wand, holding it up in the sunlight streaming through the window.

I sat on the floor and watched, wishing I could see what is so fascinating about the plastic decoration. I wish for just one moment I could see things through my son's eyes, see what he sees that make ordinary things beautiful.

"Hey," I say to my son. "Can I come visit today?" He turns and gives me a grin. "I promise not to stay too long," I whisper as he climbs into my lap. He holds the heart up to my eye so I can check it out. I kiss him on the forehead, and I'm off, for a little vacation in the Land of Jude.