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Ruby was born different, she was a late baby. She cried. I used to joke that if she had been the first, she would’ve been the only. She was different from the moment she was born, and I loved her differently. She sparkled, and I watched her in awe. As she struggled, I worried it was because I babied her, she was the baby of the family and then she was the only child at home. I parented this wild, feral creature. I was in awe of her her entire life.

 

When she was little and kids were mean to her, I used to tell her don’t let them dim your sparkle. 

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But they did, and as she got older and she was gorgeous and brilliant and hilarious, her life got harder and harder. And I watched and I loved her. I tailored my parenting to her. I was her favorite person, her entire life. And there is beauty and sadness in that. I took her to therapy,

I took her to med services, we went to the hospital. I was so desperate to help her. When she was diagnosed with autism, at 14, I was so relieved and so furious.

 

Because Ruby had been in therapy since she was nine, she had attended excellent schools. But no one caught that. There was no early intervention for Ruby. And because she lived with undiagnosed autism, by the time she was diagnosed, she had a host of mental health issues. Her life was hard every single day.

 

And I watched, and I loved her. She taught me to be calm. She could lose her mind about a tiny thing and I would take a deep breath and respond calmly. I was always calm and I was always loving. I used to tell her I loved her, anytime she told me something that I didn’t know how to respond to. The things I couldn’t fix, I tried to fix with love. I became a master of distraction, reframing , and de-escalation. , I could list out coping skills in 10 seconds. I became the ultimate inspirational plaque. I promise it will get better. Stay with me, I love you, there is a light at the end of this tunnel.

 

Because there were no other options, as I watched her descent into the darkness. The only option was getting her through this. I do not believe you can spoil a fundamentally unhappy person and so I gave Ruby every tiny thing she asked for. Starbucks, a new hairbrush, new pants. We were waiting for med changes to work. I was sure that that was all we were waiting for.

 

I took her to therapy every week, even as she kept telling me her therapist wasn’t listening. But she kept going, because she wanted to feel better. And there were no other options, because of course she would feel better.

 

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