Penmachine

My friend KK posted something utterly remarkable to his Facebook wall a few hours ago. He has a son, who is eight, with severe autism, and who lives far away with his mother. The boy has never spoken, or really communicated with words to anyone.

Except this week he started fucking typing. His first message, to his sister, who dropped her coat on the floor when she came in the house:

pick up your jacket

Then, a little later, via email:

Hi dad . how are you. Have a nice day.

On our car trip to Seattle last summer, KK told us quite a bit about his son and his son's condition. I wondered at the time, and sometimes since, how much the kid is thinking that he hasn't been able to express his whole life. When my wife Air pointed out today's Facebook post, I burst into tears beside her.

You know, a lot of my life has sucked over the past while, but sometimes the world is beautiful. It really is.

P.S. Want more proof? Read Roger Ebert this week, especially his last sentence.

Labels: friends, geekery, mentalhealth