Angels in our Midst

I'm driven to believe today 
that there really are angels in our midst.

Before the days of knowing anything about autism ~ indeed before the days of knowing I needed to know anything about autism ~ I was so intent on trying to fathom why the parenting I continuously tried to improve still wasn't doing the trick that I wouldn't have been aware of an angel if it bit me on the behind, let alone waft me with their wings.

But after an autism diagnosis, despite the turmoil that ensues, angels actually materialise.  Obviously not in the form of diaphanous, winged beings descending from golden skies above ~ even though the sky this morning appeared ideally suited to angel flight ~ no, more in the way some people just are & how that makes you feel.

And I just wanted to pause to acknowledge & give thanks to some 'angels' who've been at my shoulder recently, providing guidance, calm, sanctuary, acceptance & hope in humanity.

Spookily, given the date, their names all begin with 'A'.  Who would have thought?

Mr A

The founding patron of a very special school that has come to our salvation ~ today is the first day of a new chapter; today is the day we really can start to move forward.  Thank you.

Alastair

The IPSEA case worker who so patiently listened, advised & guided us along the process of appeal to secure a more appropriate educational setting for 'one of us'.  
Thank you.

Abraham

The Orthodontist who has waited patiently (for 4 years) until we were ready & able to attend an appointment.  Who then welcomed us & explained very appropriately for his audience what he was doing & what he would be doing at future appointments & why, what very special TLC he would give & why & what he needed in return.
Thank you.  

'A'

Who, for 'others of us' & separate to the challenge above, accompanied me on meetings with SENCOs at local mainstream secondary schools, armed with a long list of questions around how they accommodate children with autism, to help me find the best possible provision.  
Thank you.

Allan

My dad.  Who died when I was 10 years old.  He (or the thought of him) really is an invisible force at my shoulder & I like very much to think that he was keeping a watchful, approving eye from behind those high, golden, puff ball clouds that dotted this morning's bright blue sky as we drove to Mr A's very special school. 
Thank you & I love you, always.

Angels in our midst, as I say.

And to those angels not yet acknowledged, I am thankful to you all.

Bust of an Angel from skitterphoto.com