“Drowning. That was how I felt many years ago, the first time I heard the word ‘autism.’ I sat in the doctor’s office, gripping my husband’s hands so tightly I left nail marks embedded in them. I nodded deliberately in acquiescence as the understanding that our son will always be different dawned slowly on me. I gasped for breath, choking back the tears that would not stop falling.”—Jennifer O. Cuaycong, “Hope Floats”
