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CindyCynthia Simms
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Independence is a funny thing



Sometimes, there’s nothing better than the feeling of being independent. I remember how much I loved traveling by myself when I was younger. It just felt so . . . well, independent. No one telling you what to do or where to go or how to dress.

Now that I’m a mom, independence takes on a whole new meaning. Personally, I relish the few minutes of independence from my family that I find here and there. Don’t get me wrong – I love spending time with my husband and kids. But for a few minutes every now and then, it’s just nice to be free from the responsibilities that the name “MOM” confers on you.

On the other side of the coin, I’m watching my AS son starting to discover his need for independence.

A few years ago, my husband took my son, who was then around 8, to a UConn football game. While they were up in the VIP lounge living it up, my son decided that he needed popcorn. My husband, brave (or crazy) soul that he was, gave our boy $10 and said, “Go ahead and get yourself something.” Dad watched in stealth amazement as that tiny little boy walked up to the line, waited patiently, got to the front, ordered a bag of popcorn and a soda, got change and returned.

Now, that seems like a little thing to a lot of parents. But to those of us who know the spectrum intimately, that was HUGE! He had to speak for himself in a world of strangers, and he did it! Granted, he may have asked the cashier what exit she lived near, but in the end, he got what he wanted all by himself.

Let me just say here that it is a good thing I wasn’t there, or this moment never would’ve happened. In retrospect, though, I’m glad it did. It gave me a new appreciation for what my son is capable of. It gave my son a new appreciation for what he is capable of.

Last night, we had a layover in Cincinnati on our way back to New England from LA. And as I watched my “tiny boy” shuffle, teenager-like, across the concourse to get a Mrs. Fields cookie, I thought about independence again. As I knew he was loving that minute of freedom, all I could see was him walking away. At that moment, I felt both sides of independence. And I was painfully thrilled for both of us.


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1 Comments

  1. tommazzarella, March 17, 2009:

    Cyndi this was a good story, nice job. It made me think!

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