My mom said Matt was a normal baby. Brilliant, in fact. He knew the alphabet before age 2. He was speaking. Then one day she went to get him from his crib and he wasn’t there anymore. He stopped talking, only screamed from nightmares we knew nothing about. Blame. Blame. My mother sought medical help and found no answers there. Refrigerator mom, that is what they said.
My dad thought he found a cure. My first memory, I was around 4. Matt was 3, Mark was a toddler and mom was probably pregnant with Luke. We were all crying and I remember being afraid. Matt was having another fit, screaming and throwing himself on the floor. My dad was yelling and hitting Matt. I heard banging against the cabinets in the kitchen. Crying, my mom trying to hold us back stop us from seeing. Oh, but I did see. I saw that my dad did not find the cure for autism. And that was the beginning of my mom trying to find a cure.