My little brother Daniele has autism, which first appeared when he was around three years old. He is an extraordinarily sensitive boy—kind, attentive to the people and events around him, even if he hides behind what looks like distraction. Daniele loves colors. He loves to write, to draw, to eat sweets and ice cream, to play with words. But his true passion, his obsession really, is time itself: the days of the week, the calendar, which has always been his favorite game (because he always wins at it). The passage of time gives him certainty and safety, yet it is also his greatest daily anxiety. Knowing what he'll do today isn't enough; he has to plan tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that. I suppose many of us do the same thing. He just doesn't hide it.
Since I was young, his world has fascinated me. On one hand, it's so intricate and hard to perceive. On the other, it's simple, spontaneous, free of barriers and the unnecessary constructs we often build around ourselves. I remember coming home exhausted from the usual frenetic rush of daily life and finding him bent over his drawing in his room, untouched by anything. It filled me with an enormous sense of peace. I would stop and ask myself whether all that daily anxiety made any sense. Then everything would start again, and it was right that it did.
In his innocence and tenderness, Daniele is like an eternal child. As his older sister, I'm always drawn to treat him that way. I want to protect him from everything and everyone I don't feel close to—and perhaps that's my own limitation. Now that I'm about to become a mother, I wonder if I'll be just as anxious with my own child, and how my relationship with my brother will shift and grow. The truth is that even he, despite how much he's expressed a need for independence lately, still wants to be held and fussed over, still wants to be at the center of Mum and Dad's and his sisters' attention. I hope we can help him understand that these new lives won't change the love we feel for him. Maybe they'll even give him a chance to grow and discover the joy of being an uncle.
Daniele is all of this and much more. He is a new joy and discovery every day. His special way of being is a gift and a richness we live with always.
by Maria Paola Tosti