A glimpse of the man
I caught a glimpse of the man last week.
It was a glimpse of the Bowler, the Batsman's 20 month old little brother.
He's a different kettle of fish, the Bowler. The Batsman is placid, generally calm and sweet, sweet natured. The Bowler, well, he has his sweet moments but he is louder, feistier and a real go get 'em kind of kid. He has to be I guess. There's so much going on at the Pavillion most of the time that to be loud is to be heard.
So, the glimpse.
The Batsman and the Bowler were wrestling on the floor. Or perhaps I should say the Bowler was wrestling. The Batsman was trying, ever so gently, to fend off the tackles without inflicting any injury. While trying in vain to shepherd his brother off his leg, the Batsman said "Move away". Not a chance.
The Bowler looked up and grinned at me. Glee, cheek, daring.
And I saw it. The man.
The Bowler loves his big brother. Fiercely. He wanders from room to room calling him if he can't find him. When the Batsman is in a therapy session and the boys are not together, he talks about him constantly. Each can't imagine life without the other. It's as if they were always together.
The Bowler, the man, will be the protector of his gentler brother. I can see that now. When the Batsman is in a situation that his autism won't let him comprehend, if someone in the playground is unkind, it will be the Bowler who will look after his mate. He is rough and tumble. Strong. And he loves his brother.
The Batsman was diagnosed with autism after the arrival of the Bowler to our world. I am eternally grateful for that. Should the diagnosis have come prior to a second pregnancy I am not sure we would have had another child. Fear might well have stopped us. I am certainly thanking those lucky stars the Bowler is with us.
Brothers.
Friends.
Mates.
Protectors.
Always.
A glimpse of the man.
It was a glimpse of the Bowler, the Batsman's 20 month old little brother.
He's a different kettle of fish, the Bowler. The Batsman is placid, generally calm and sweet, sweet natured. The Bowler, well, he has his sweet moments but he is louder, feistier and a real go get 'em kind of kid. He has to be I guess. There's so much going on at the Pavillion most of the time that to be loud is to be heard.
So, the glimpse.
The Batsman and the Bowler were wrestling on the floor. Or perhaps I should say the Bowler was wrestling. The Batsman was trying, ever so gently, to fend off the tackles without inflicting any injury. While trying in vain to shepherd his brother off his leg, the Batsman said "Move away". Not a chance.
The Bowler looked up and grinned at me. Glee, cheek, daring.
And I saw it. The man.
The Bowler, the man, will be the protector of his gentler brother. I can see that now. When the Batsman is in a situation that his autism won't let him comprehend, if someone in the playground is unkind, it will be the Bowler who will look after his mate. He is rough and tumble. Strong. And he loves his brother.
The Batsman was diagnosed with autism after the arrival of the Bowler to our world. I am eternally grateful for that. Should the diagnosis have come prior to a second pregnancy I am not sure we would have had another child. Fear might well have stopped us. I am certainly thanking those lucky stars the Bowler is with us.
Brothers.
Friends.
Mates.
Protectors.
Always.
A glimpse of the man.
Everyone needs a little brother like the Bowler!
ReplyDeletexo
This is such a gorgeous post. I read it is morning and it has been on my mind all day.
ReplyDeleteI love those moments when you catch a little glimpse of your child as they might be as an adult.
As Hope's Mama says, everyone needs a little brother like the Bowler and I'm sure that your dear Batsman's life is all the richer for having his brother as a part of it.