April 2 is the beginning of World Autism Awareness Month all across the globe. On every continent and in most major cities worldwide, recognizable monuments, public buildings, businesses, and households will be lit up with blue lights to recognize those who have been touched by autism, and to honor those living with autism.

Many will change their Facebook profile pictures to blue and wear blue on this day as other ways of showing support for this special cause.

This year marks the sixth annual Light It Up Blue for Autism Day, which was created by Autism Speaks, a nonprofit organization dedicated to autism research, support, and awareness.

Autism is a spectrum disorder that affects development, a person’s ability to engage socially, speech abilities, sensory integration functions, cognitive abilities, and is often accompanied by other health concerns such as epilepsy, gastrointestinal problems, and issues with the immune system. Autism is most often diagnosed in childhood, and studies show that the earlier a child is diagnosed, the better the prognosis long term.

Although there are some medications that have shown to help improve some of the symptoms of autism, and some treatments are available that some have tried and have found success, there is no cure for autism.

The autism adage is, “If you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism,” because, although often there are similarities and a range of common conditions amongst the autism population, no autistic person is the same. Each autistic child and adult is unique, individual, and special with his or her own unique gifts and personal challenges.

The characteristics of autism vary, depending on which end of the “spectrum” the person stands. Some are abundantly verbal, learn to speak younger than other children, precocious, but lack social skills and are unable to regulate their emotions. Others are delayed with their speech, or do not speak at all without the aid of technology in which many have found their voice. Some engage in repetitive behaviors, prefer to be alone, and have intense interests that keep them engaged for hours. Some love music, math, and like someone I know and love, adore trains, bridges, and classical music. Basically, like any other person, they are individuals and have something to delight in and contribute to this world.

Chances are, if your family has not yet been touched by autism, it one day will be, as autism rates continue to rise. Today, one in every 68 children is now diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. Mine is one of them.

My 11-year-old son was diagnosed with autism at 18 months of age. Just before Christmas of 2004, when he was 15 months old, I started to wonder if something was wrong with his development, something more than perhaps “Diego just being Diego.”

For us, now, years later, autism is less like a diagnosis and more like a journey. An odyssey would be more like it. Complete with tragedy and triumph, struggle and success, trial and error, joy and sorrow, twists and turns, hardship and happiness, certainty and uncertainty – personal doubt and personal growth.

Throughout the month I hope to share with you our journey, and the journeys of other families in the Tri-Town community who have gone through and are on the same path in life.

On April 2 and throughout the month of April, you may notice some of your neighbors’ front porch lights lit with blue light bulbs as a symbol of autism awareness. The Rochester and Mattapoisett Town Halls will be lighting it up blue, and some may notice the faces of the Town Hall clock tower in Fairhaven as you drive down Route 6 at night during the month of April. Other famous landmarks across the country, and the world, will also participate in the Light It Up Blue event.

As a mother of an autistic child, I can hardly describe for you the feeling I get when I pass a house or a building lit up blue on this night while driving home from some town board or committee meeting. I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the acknowledgment of the unique challenges my family experiences on a daily basis. I also get a pang of sorrow, wondering if that particular family has also known the struggle of autism and are honoring their special loved one. I feel supported because someone might be participating just to show their encouragement and their willingness to raise awareness of autism, and I feel hopeful for the future of a world that accepts my child as the wonderful, delightful person that he is.

So when I light my front porch in blue over this month, I celebrate the gift that is autism, while acknowledging the struggle over the years that has brought me to this place of acceptance and joy. I hope that others will join me on April 2 and throughout the month of April by lighting up their own front porches as a sign of solidarity and the hope for a better world for all of us, and especially those who are autistic living in a non-autistic world.

Happy Autism Awareness month to all the wonderful people I know who have been touched by autism, and to all those who have just begun or who in the future will embark upon the same journey as my family. And when you see those blue lights lighting up the night, know that you are not alone, that we honor you, and we celebrate your loved one on the beautiful spectrum of color that is autism.

By Jean Perry

…I feel I owe you a great deal of apology. Approximately eight weeks ago, I fear I was quite severe with my words toward you, and I do believe that I was wrong for having accused you of deceiving us with what can only be declared now as your rightful prediction of the subsequent weeks of winter that have grieved us all most ardently.

You see, my dear sir, that I had perceived your calculation to be of the most devious and vexing of forecasts, and I pray you will be kind enough to grant me the opportunity to explain in the most sincerest of hopes that you might forgive me for my offense against you and your good name.

As you most certainly remember, Mr. Phil, that on Monday, February 2 – a day observed annually when you are most celebrated – as on most Mondays during this unforgiving winter, there was indeed a snowstorm that stretched across half of the country. We, your faithful followers, were confident that, given the weather, the overcast, and the inches of snow gathering around us, you would naturally predict the early arrival of spring in the absence of your shadow that, according to lore, would have sent you hurrying back into your hideaway beneath the frozen ground while six more weeks of winter would torment us all and deprive us of the coming of spring for longer than we could endure.

And against all propriety in respect to the external circumstances and contrary to the predictions of your fellow groundhogs in nearby regions, you stood your ground and declared your immediate retreat to your subterranean sanctuary, whilst admonishing us to follow your example in kind, in spite of our desperate demand for a proclamation of an emerging and hasty period of unseasonable warmth that would melt our cold hearts once o’er with the accompanying affections of fragrant springtime flowers, rich earth-scented air, and fresh rain.

Upon hearing of your unfortunate finding, I admit, dear sir, that I impolitely and indiscreetly announced to all that you must have been mistaken, or even worse, had explicitly misinformed us, if only to torment our mortal minds, confuse us, and delight in our bewilderment. That, kind sir, would have been most unappealing and would have severely affected our high regard and esteem for you.

And now, as I look back upon the aforementioned eight weeks, I find myself feeling ill at my behavior, my distrust, and my self-indulgent wallowing, as well as my disdain for your (honorable) actions that served only to warn us of an impending period of insufferable discontent.

My dear Mr. Punxsatawney Phil, I beseech you to excuse my inimical and indefensible etiquettes and incorrect conjectures I conferred that may have harmed your reputation and wounded your pride. If only I had listened to your infinite wisdom instead of indulging in the impertinence of the imposition of my own desire for an early spring, ignoring your infallible intuition.

Although it may be too late, and I pray that it might not be so, I hope that you will accept my most heartfelt apology and, when you finally emerge from your hideaway in the ground, you will forgive me of my folly and we shall continue on as good acquaintances, if not good friends. At the very least, Phil, allow me to owe you a Guinness at the tavern of your choosing.

In other words, you were utterly right. I was wicked wrong. So, sorry, dude.

Sincerely, and with the kindest of regards,

Jean Perry