Monthly Archives: March 2016

An Aspie’s Easter: Ritual

Some of you may be somewhat familiar with my paternal Grandmother from reading Unforgiving, Memoir of an Asperger Teen.  Well, every Easter up until I was eleven years old, my grandmother bought me a complete outfit.  I can only remember one of these: a light aqua terylene dress, with white collar, white gloves and white shoes.

Do you have a favorite memory of Easter?  Or maybe there’s new traditions you’re starting now. I’d be interested in hearing some of them.

Easter Sunday was special in those days.  Women wore their very best outfits, including a new hat.  I loved to go to church and see the pretty Spring colours.  The black and navy of winter was gone, and the women brought out the sunnier summer palette.

For me, Easter Sunday still means dressing up.  I love laying out my clothes the night before, choosing the accessories that I’ll wear to accent the outfit I’ve chosen.

More and more I’ve become aware that it is a privilege to attend the church of our choice, and a privilege to worship. We still have that privilege; I like to enjoy it while I can.

After church there was always a big family dinner, sometimes with friends joining in.  Roast ham or chicken, the last of the root vegetables from the cold cellar, home made breads, and for dessert, home made apple pie (there was no other kind in the ancient days) and ice cream. A feast of celebration.!  Who would say no to that?

As an Aspie?  These rituals are precious events, imbued with memories of days past, traditions I never want to relinquish.

 

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Asperger Poetics

In my book, Unforgiving, Memoir of an Asperger Teen, I include a couple of poems.  Here is one that arose from a Business Networking Meeting I attended every Friday.  It’s just how I felt, being an Aspie on the outside of all the conversation:

Asperger Me.

I do not wish to tip toe around the polite perimeter of social exchange,

To avoid intimacy and understanding.

I do not wish to abstain from participation in the

socially connected sea of humanity;

to be silent when I am eager to speak,

To smile with others without knowing why,

Or listen to the negative impreachments of my peers.

I wish to connect

To find and open the portal to your innermost reality.

To hear you speak in words

as true and distinct as your heartbeat,

To know you for who you truly deeply be.

That’s what I wish, Asperger Me!

Yours truly,

Margaret Jean.

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