white roseI don’t want to, and don’t mean to, take away from the tragedy that happened in Lake Jackson on the 5th. A five year old girl was hit and killed by a truck. It was a freak accident. The girl was walking behind her father. She stopped and got down to look in a storm drain. She was too low to be seen by the driver.

It’s horrible.

I cannot image the pain that goes with having your child die. Especially in such a sudden way. Especially in a way that can lead to you blaming yourself.

Think about it: you turn your back for half a minute. You miss seeing that your child has gotten down on the ground. You don’t see that your child is in danger. It takes almost no time at all.

You will potentially feel that guilt for the rest of your life, I would imagine. I could only think that it’s nearly impossible to erase the feeling. Even though it isn’t your fault, even though it was just a momentary lapse – one that every parent has every day, multiple times, probably – it is the one lapse that will never go away. Never be forgotten.

This is a fear of so many parents and caregivers of those who love someone with autism.

It’s a real fear, a daily fear, a constant fear. A terrifying aspect of autism.

Children, and adults, can decide to run for no reason or for some unknown reason.

Simon is afraid of birds. Hearing birds, seeing birds, sensing birds…that can set him off. We have a handicapped tag to make sure that, on days that when the birds are converging, we can park close by and don’t have to worry about him making a break for it across the parking lot.

But not everyone can do that.

And not everyone can hold onto the person that wants to run. Or keep an eye on them 24/7. There are lapses. There are moments. And they are the scariest parts of the day.

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