Many autistic people have or have had a grandmother that provided a special love towards them growing up. My maternal grandmother was the matriarch that had shown continual love towards me, even when others in the family saw me as a different person. She was the person who often held the glue of the family together and allowed me the comfort and safety that was beyond my home.

My grandmother was one in a family of three siblings of parents that worked for the postal service. She attended catholic school until she became pregnant with my late uncle and got married to my grandfather in the church rectory because she was not allowed to be married in the church itself due to pregnancy. She always recalled her and my grandfather moving their items to their home on a wagon. Throughout the next decade and a half, they lived in various homes in the one square mile borough that I was born and raised in until they bought a house, making payments to her grandfather and the bank at the same time.

Through that, my mother was born and eventually my other uncle. My mother stayed at home until she got pregnant with my sister and as a result left the Catholic church that was the faith of the family, eventually married my father and years later I was born. As I was developing, my grandmother always had the inkling that I was “different” and even though I did not always see it, she always made sure that I was cared for and even helped my parents care for me when they were unable to.

I did many more things with my grandparents growing up than any of my other cousins growing up. They had always shown their love in different ways by seeing that I was different than the others. She was the one that I could always confide in and feel comfortable around sometimes more than my parents themselves. They always had cheese in the fridge and Caffiene free drinks in the fridge, something I wish I had adhered to after my relapse last summer. Despite my struggles with soda, they had always known that I needed caffeine free soda, even if I didn’t listen to them. There were many struggles over soda and cheese over them, but their love prevailed.

Eventually, technology overwhelmed me as I had gotten older and I had distanced myself from them greater, Although, 12 days before her death, the family celebrated my grandparents 70^th wedding anniversary and the day before her death, despite me knowing it, I made a move to visit her. The next day, her death was sudden and although my father wanted to wait to tell me, there was a part of me that known before I arrived home that day that she had left the earth.

I have many memories of my grandmother, including many sitting on their front porch on the swing. What I wouldn’t give to be able to sit on that porch once again and have a conversation of all the progress I gave made in the eight years since her death and on what her heavenly birthday today. Her memory will live forever. Love you gram!