By Mark James Gaylard
A Short Story for My Son, Jack
Have you ever had one of those moments where you walk into a room for a reason, and then when you get there you’ve forgotten why?
Today I was out with my 12 year old diagnosed autistic son Jackson (or just ‘Jack’ as he prefers). I take exception to that ‘diagnosis’, but then that’s another story. We had just enjoyed a glorious Spring day in the sun riding our bikes by the river. I had been away for some weeks and only been back in town a week or so. We had some serious father-son catch up time to do – and this was a very special day for us both (in more ways than one).
As often happens, he asked me something profound, apropos to life and death, quite out of the…
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