Grow with their Flow

This morning, my 5-year-old came out of the bedroom looking sad.

He sat down next to me on the kitchen floor and told me he’d had a nightmare that I was dying. In his dream, we were on our way to a picnic, and my eyes started turning white—that was how he knew I was about to die. He said he cried in the dream, and as he recounted it, a few real tears slipped down his cheeks.

Later, while we were getting ready for school, he said quietly, “If you die, you have to leave something behind for me.” He told me he would miss me very much and would want to have something that belonged to me.

I offered him my rings, my earrings, my clothes. But really, what would make a real difference?

Then he asked, “Where would you go after you die?”
I told him, “Some people believe you go to heaven.”
He paused, then asked, “What do you believe in?”

Good question. What do I believe, my son—and why? How do I explain things like this to a 5-year-old, when I’m still trying to understand them myself?

Lately, I’ve been grieving my diagnosis of being twice exceptional—gifted and autistic. It doesn’t feel like a gift. Nor do I fully feel autistic. There’s so much to unpack, and it hurts every time I think about it.

More than anything, I’ve been reflecting on what this diagnosis means for me, and how I can use this new understanding for good.

I’ve been thinking a lot about purpose—why we’re here, and what meaning we can make of pain and suffering. Perhaps this is what will truly matter to my children: that I share my experiences, teach them how to navigate challenges, and pass on the values and small bits of wisdom that might lift them in heavy times and light their way through the dark.

And when I’m gone one day, I hope they can still hold on to my words—my advice, my stories, my voice. May those echoes of me stay with them, gently guiding them through this journey of life, reminding them that they are never truly alone.

If this resonated, you might also find comfort in A Legacy Left Unwritten — What a Dying Patient Taught Me About the Time We Have With Our Children, where I write about mortality, parenthood and what really matters.