About three months ago someone approached me at a party. The subject of kids came up and eventually I mentioned that Brody was diagnosed with autism. She meant well and meant to actually comfort me once she found out.  The conversation went a little like this:

Person: "Brody has autism? Oh, well, you know what? I know (insert name here) and their son has autism. He is now in his thirties."

Me: "Does he have a girlfriend?"

Person: "Well, no..."

Me: "Does he drive?"

Person: "No, he lives with his parents....he likes to rent videos, play video games, he doesn't have a job, but he goes out to eat with his parents sometimes..."

I realize this may sound like a few people you know...living at home at age 30 playing video games at his/her parent's house, but it took everything in me not to start crying in front of this lady.

This sadness soon turned into selfishness. I should not care of Brody will marry or drive a car, but I do. Who doesn't want their son to grow up and have a family of his own?

Who will take care of him when I am gone?

This is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night. Who will love him when he is 30 years old? Will he have a wife? Will he have children?

With any child, autistic or not, all parents have these thoughts. I know my parents did. I am sure there were moments when they just weren't sure what I was going to do with my life. They may also have thought I would end up in their basement playing video games, instead of getting married and having children of my own.

So, now when I go to a party, I become the "Brody Match-maker.." If I find out someone has a two year old daughter, I immediately start telling him/her about Brody (and Destin, too).

"Brody is soooo cute, and sweet! Now how old is your little girl?"