I was asked what was the magical part of my childhood as a person with autism. With such a question, it took me days to choose one memory over the others.
One Island Lake. It was a magical place, a sandy beach hemmed in by trees with a shoreline that curved inward toward the beach. I felt safe because the water was shallow, and when I looked up my Mum was always there.
She let my sister and I stay there all day. I studied tadpoles, minnows, plants, and lightning bugs. I made great rivers from one small sandbar to the next. I was quite happy in this little world of wonders–the smaller the better.
Study the photo above and notice beyond the tadpoles to the sand. Every piece of sand is a different color. They all sparkle in different ways. When you swirl your hand in the water above the sand, some of the sparkles will swirl like a hurricane of rainbows. The darker colored ones sink first, with the lighter, sparklier ones remaining in the swirl longer.
Have you ever pushed your fingers into the sand on the bottom of a clean, shallow lake? It feels like…indescribable heaven. If you leave your hand there long enough, the minnows and tadpoles will come and swim around and tickle your skin.
I remember getting very upset when other people came there because of my discomfort around people and because they were talking and sometimes playing a radio. It upset me to the point of angry. It was MY place. To this day, I have a hard time sharing with others when I have set my mind on something belonging to me, whether it be a place, a thing, or a time of day. I don’t want to share, but I know I have to so I others will be happy.
Maybe my Mum’s ulterior motive was to get some rest because my sister and I were occupied. She read a lot. And, I remember being so tired and wanting to go to bed. Smart woman, my mother.
I wasn’t aware of the rest of the lake, just my small part of it. To this day, I know so much about the minutiae of tadpoles and minnows. On my deck at night, I will see lightning bugs and I still wonder how they do it. I have the urge to run and grab a jar to catch one in, but that would be mean, so I wonder instead. I refuse to look up lightning bugs on the internet because I don’t want the magic to go away by having memories turned into realities.
I know Mum brought food and water, but I wasn’t much aware of that. She said to drink so I drank. I don’t remember much of anything she ever said when we were there. I do remember how the waning sun made her blond hair into gold and bronze. I was quite amazed at such a beautiful sight. She was the one who brought jars so my sister and I could catch lightning bugs. I was in awe of her because she knew of such things.
Every time, though, she said one dreaded thing, “Time to go, kids.” But oh, how I slept.
ttfn in Tennessee, thank you for your question and the lovely memory it invoked.
