My entire life I have been asked the question. "What is it like to have a little sister with autism?"
Well, to be honest, it is more heartbreaking than anything. I grew up not knowing for the longest time until I hit the age where I could tell things were different.
She didn't steal my clothes.
Everyone knows that having a little sister or being a little sister most likely means they want to be just like you or bother you in the least. From famous cartoons and movies to the person who sits next to you in math, we all hear our fair share of sister stories. Having a good selection of clothing with makeup and perfume galore I always dreaded the day that I would come home on Friday when I was in high school and get ready for a weekend out with my friends only to find out my favorite shirt was in her possession along with my perfume that she knows I wear all the time.This never happened.
My home life was different.
At home, things were a little more on schedule, disorganized and unpredictable than the so called " social norm" of a household, but regardless, it was normal for us. Melanie loves school, so there was no sleeping in. Her day starts at six thirty every morning, and out of pure excitement, she is up way before that. She also likes to do things on her own, as much as she can. She listens to music on and off and goes outside on the swing set as much as the day and late night will allow. She loves snow and cats and will eat as much pizza, pasta and shrimp that you throw at her. We lived around her schedule and did whatever we needed to do, after she was done doing whatever she wanted. I couldn't ever really have friends over because she didn't take well to new people in our house and sometimes, the best thing you can do is just stay out of her way because once she got frustrated , who knew how long it would last. All in all, it definitely made life more interesting.
Eventually, I did my research.
It didn't hit me until my senior year of high school how little I actually knew about her, regardless of living in the same house as her for 16 years. At this point, I had already volunteered at the special olympics and seen how other families live with their disabled children and decided it was time to look more into it. For my senior project I based it around her and the life and well being of children like her and children of all different disabilities. I looked up articles and talked to parents, especially my own. In the end, I learned that Melanie's autism may not be autism, and it is up in the air exactly what it could be even though she has been tested and everything you can possibly do, sometimes we just never fully know. There are so many children like her and unlike her, that struggle and live with the same types of things it seemed like the statistics were never-ending. After presenting this as my final project and getting a perfect score for graduation, it became a topic that I am even more passionate about now than ever.
I found my lifelong best friend, and she will never know it.
I hope she doesn't mind me telling everyone about her and I wonder if she knows how famous she has been throughout my life. Melanie is nonverbal and I couldn't be more proud of how smart she is. I am glad that she loves school more than I ever did and that she is doing so well with what she has available to her . We don't have a regular relationship like most siblings do. We don't go out and do things, we don't fight on family vacations because we don't take them, we don't talk or really do much of anything. Sometimes it's hearing her sing or seeing her run around outside chasing the dogs up and down the fence or her just sitting down to watch TV and even mark up the calendar because she is so excited for school she wants to make sure she gets to go that makes me appreciate her being around the most.
Enjoy the little things in life, because not everyone has them.
Growing up this way has taught me the importance of smiles and good days. I often wonder what she thinks every day or what the world looks like to her, and even what she would say if she had the chance. I wonder about her dreams, interests, favorite things, and what troubles me most is when I wonder if she wishes things would change, or if we are doing something wrong. We are not equal, her and I. We will never lead the same life with the same opportunities to do the same things with the same considerable chances. The hardest part is not understanding and not knowing. She is now almost seventeen and I have moved to college and as I approach my nineteenth birthday I can only hope that these past seventeen years have somewhat prepared her for whatever her life holds for her. Because I have a sister, I have a best friend and because she is autistic, she may never know.