There are so many challenges families face when one member is affected by autism. Our family has been on quite a journey. Filled with experiences most people can’t imagine and challenges I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
I don’t often share the hardest parts, though there have been many. Supporting Jacob has always been a full-time job, and along the way there has been a lot of quiet grief-grief for the moments that never happened and the expectations we had to let go of.
Growing up, our daughter Natalie always wanted a family vacation. We couldn’t go out to dinner with Jake, and traveling felt impossible. Jake thrives on routine and consistency, and years ago, the last vacation we attempted ended with him trying to elope from a hotel. After that, I believed traveling just wasn’t going to be part of his life.
Jacob’s autism affects his communication; while he is verbal, much of his language is scripting, and he has no concept of safety. But what he does have is a deep, beautiful love for characters. Pixar. Disney. Universal. His life has always been character-centric. He has movies memorized, does incredible character imitations, recognizes actors by their voices, creates puppet shows, and finds joy in reimagining stories in his own way.
For over 24 years, I asked the same question:
“Hey Jake, do you want to go to Disney or Universal?”
The answer was always no—panic, fear, overwhelm.
A few years ago, I was at Universal Studios, and Jake kept FaceTiming me. Over and Over because he wanted to see it so badly. After about 30 FaceTimes, I broke down and cried. I literally paid admission into Universal Studios just to ride Minion Mayhem one time and record it for him.
Over time, I grieved many “nevers.” Never prom. Never sports teams. Never certain milestones I once imagined. I learned to reframe those losses and focus on what truly matters: that he is safe, healthy, happy, and loved.
And yet… I never stopped asking.
Four months ago, I asked again.
“Hey, Jake, want to go to Disney and Universal and meet the characters for real?”
This time, he surprised us all.
He said yes.
Yes to flying on an airplane.
Yes to Florida.
Yes to staying in a hotel (something he usually hates and has always opposed).
We planned the trip together, detail by detail. I knew I had to think through everything. I was terrified he wouldn’t get on the plane. The “what ifs” crept in constantly—visions of him screaming through the entire flight. I meditated daily just to quiet my fear. And eventually, I made peace with this thought: Even if we walk to the gate and he doesn’t get on the plane, that’s okay.
But Jacob didn’t just get on the plane; he thrived.
Despite nonstop rain and overwhelming crowds, he managed beautifully. These photos capture something I never thought I’d see, and I am still in awe of how far he’s come.
And Natalie—now 30—finally got the family vacation she had always wanted.
This trip wasn’t just about Disney or Universal.
It was about possibility.
About not closing the door too soon.
About honoring grief while still leaving room for joy. 💙
growth still happens post 22-
