He hurts too.

"Make of my book what you will, but keep in mind that I – and every other autistic person you are likely to meet – has the same ability as you to feel things. In fact, as you will read, our emotions often run deeper and longer than those of non autistics. So please be mindful of what you say. Words do hurt." 

-John Robison on his blog 

I learned pretty early on that this "no empathy" myth is a crock of crap, so I said as much on my blog and Facebook (and in person, when given the chance). On Pinterest I found this graphic explaining the difference in cognitive empathy and compassionate empathy and re-posted it:

Still, I find myself moved when Henry displays these deep emotions referenced both in the graphic and by John Robison.

_____

Lent has brought forth all kinds of questions.

"Mom, what are graves?"

"Graves are where our bodies go when we die, but our souls go to heaven with Jesus and get a brand new body."

Lip trembling. "Will I be a kid?"

"If you went to heaven now, yes, I think you would probably be a kid. But when adults die, I think they are adults in heaven."

He turns his face away from me, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. I scoot closer to him in the bed, put my arm around him.

"Are you ok, baby?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." Wipes his eyes. "Mom, will you please stop calling me a baby?"

"I sure will, honey. 'Baby' is a term people use when they love someone. I even call Daddy 'baby' sometimes. But I know it upsets you, and I will try so hard to remember not to say it. Ok?"

"Thanks."