My nephew Cory just spent the week with us. For sixteen hours a day, he neither paused nor stopped. He played board games and ping pong, threw himself on the trampoline, chatted endlessly, and on the final day, learned how to dive. In between slipping into the pool head first, he explained to me how friction causes swimmers to work harder and eventually slow down. I couldn’t tell if he was earnestly seeking to explain the mechanics of swimming or offering condolence for my interminably slow laps.
At dinner one night, he made a card for his grandmother which he delivered with the stunning line, “I made this for you because I love you more than I love myself.”
On the way to the airport, he said, “I will miss you for an entire year.”
Cory is six. Cory is on the spectrum.
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