There never seems to be a loss for opinions when it comes to Autism. How did he get it? How do we fix him? How do we prevent it from happening to others? All I know is, right now I’m living it. And not as a part-time job or as a clinical study. Survival is a daily thing. Communication is hard work, on everyone’s part. And it wreaks havoc across all settings. But give me a shovel, a piece of land and something, anything, to plant or mow or water- and I’m good. At least for the short run. Don’t let me fool you, I have my support groups, my pretty meds, but getting my hands dirty is more cathartic than anything I know. It gives me the energy to deal with what ever life throws at me. And it gives me the inner strength to raise and love unconditionally, a 10-year-old boy named Mattie.