I didn’t realize it was Wednesday all over again till I sat down and found corned beef at the breakfast table. Corned beef is always Wednesday morning’s breakfast, the same way tocino (sweetened cured pork) is on Sundays, or boneless tinapang bangus (smoked milkfish) is on Saturdays. Everything is downright predictable in this household, save for some rare days when someone wants French toast made from old raisin bread with a generous dollop of apple cinnamon marmalade (that someone is usually me), or a less imaginative but always hungry young man wants fried crisp Spam with garlic rice. Regular days with regular schedules keep this household running smoothly… until something goes wrong, that is.
I wanted to share the details of Alphonse’s most recent misadventures, but on advice from my better half, decided against it. A feels that Alphonse deserves a bit of privacy to his life and that as Alphonse turns older (he will be 16 in exactly 14 days) I will have to be more discreet about the things I share about him with the public. I should have realized that much earlier. That Alphonse has autism and that he still is very much a young child in terms of cognition and experiences should not take away his right to privacy. This is most important now that he is on the cusp of manhood and on the brink of a new self-discovery and voyage. Some things- not all- will have to be just among the family.
I write about my children often, that cannot be denied. When they were smaller and my world revolved around parenthood, every single moment of my life was about them. It would have been impossible then to separate the writer from my person as a mother, seeing how my history and experiences of the world were almost always seen through this particular perspective. And yet, now that the kids are beginning to pull away from my apron strings, I will have to let them speak of their own lives themselves and choose what they want to share with the world or keep to themselves.
The truth is, it’s difficult not to see Alphonse as a baby, not when he is dependent on us for almost everything. From morning till night, his world is the world we built for him. Even as we help him discover new things in the world, this home, this life, and this family are the things that keep him grounded to us. We look at him and still see a child when the whole world already sees a young man. I guess that’s where the lines are sometimes crossed, when I share too much of his life that may not be mine to share anymore.
I won’t stop writing about my kids, but I will be more discerning when I do. I will keep in mind that these are young men, who regardless of their abilities and/or disabilities, must always have a choice on who and what they want to be. It won’t be long now before they test their new wings. As a parent, all I can do now is to let them fly.