A Little Brain Damage

Trent and I have had this ongoing conversation over the last few days. It takes place in the car as we're driving, just me and him. Trent is my nine year old with high functioning autism. I could tell something was on his mind, but I couldn't discern just what he was thinking about.

Finally, he told me that he thought his friend in Mrs. Seibert's class had brain damage. I asked him why he thought that. Trent went on to tell me that his friend's eyes wandered when he talked to him, and he never stopped talking. Then he asked me if his friend really did have brain damage. I told him yes.

Friend by friend, name by name, he went through his classmates over the next two days inquiring about whether or not they had brain damage. Each one, I asked him what he thought, and why. Each one, I answered his question with yes.

Trent's last question in this ongoing conversation was about himself. "Do I have brain damage, mom." I answered with a question back, "What do you think?"

"Yes," he said. "I think I might have some brain damage."

I told him that he had a little brain damage. I tried to compare it to a broken bone. Some people have a crack in their bone, and some people have bad breaks in their bones if they have an accident. Some people have a little brain damage, and some people have a lot of brain damage. Sometimes the damage gets better, sometimes it never heals just right.

"You just have to try harder at things, Trent." I tried to explain. He seemed to understand perfectly. In fact, he seemed relieved to know the truth. He smiled from ear to ear as we talked about him and his brain. He was comfortable with knowing more about who he was, and that it was okay.