Avril Lavigne sang “I want to be anything but ordinary, please.” Amy and I used to screech the lyrics to the top of our lungs as we mimicked her song.
“I’m not ordinary,” Amy said without a change in expression or emotion in her voice.
I only nodded and winced. Why couldn’t she just be ordinary? How did this happen? Amy is my daughter. She was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome when she was a child in the early 90’s. Today, she is 33 years old. The terminology has changed many times over the years. Sometimes she is classified as an Autism Spectrum Disordered individual, but she has concluded that she has Autism and that’s that.
“I don’t want to be called ‘special’ or ‘exceptional’ or any other of those names. Everyone calls me names. Can I just be ordinary?” Amy would say to me as we tested our lack of vocal ability on the next song.
The only thing I could honestly do was to sing louder. I didn’t ask to be a parent of a Special Needs child. I didn’t refuse or deny it either.
