Inspiration can come in many ways. The
catalyst for mine was separated by almost 50
years.
My son’s name is Seth and he is 17 years
old. Seth likes watching movies, playing video
games, and listening to music. He enjoys pizza,
fast food, and ice cream. He hates vegetables,
homework, chores, and waking up early. He
wants to get a job, buy a new car (specifically a
Chevy Tahoe LTZ), and have his own iPhone.
He loves the thrill of roller coasters and has a
crush on a girl. Seth sounds very much like a
typical teenager, yet he is not typical at all. Seth
has Autism. He was diagnosed with Autism
Spectrum Disorder (ASD) just before his 3rd
birthday
Heartbroken by the diagnosis, I was flooded
with a myriad of emotions. None stronger than
isolation and fear. I did not know who to turn
to for support and worried for my son’s future.
I questioned why this disorder had claimed
him and I felt powerless to change what was
happening. Troubled by my unfamiliarity with
the condition, I knew I desperately needed
help. What I did not know was that it would
come from an old childhood friend who helped
me through a difficult time once before.
“His name is Kookabuk,” said my father’s
friend, Lenny, as he woke me early one morning.
Squinting as I looked up in my hospital
bed, I saw a stuffed animal swinging above
me. There he was, a monkey whose long, curly
hair covered a thick bendable wire frame and
a chubby face which grinned a happy smile.
Kookabuk was positioned hanging by one arm
on the curtain rod overlooking my bed. Speaking
with an animated tone, my father’s friend
told me a fascinating story about my new toy.
He said Kookabuk had magical healing powers
and was there to help me get better. Before
leaving, Lenny took Kookabuk down and
placed him next to me.
I was seven years old and frightened about
being in the hospital. I didn’t know why I was
by Kevin Howard, M.A. Ed.
not able to walk nor why this was happening
to me. Confined to the mechanical bed with
tubes and wires connecting my body to different
bags and equipment, I feared that I may
never walk again. Alone in the room I wished
for something to save me from feeling isolated
and afraid. There it was lying next to me, my
new toy. Kookabuk helped me escape my
fear and loneliness by taking me on countless
imaginary adventures.
Before I realized it, 6 weeks magically
passed, my ability to walk returned, and I left
the hospital with Kookabuk tucked under my
arm.
On the morning of my 11th birthday I was
looking for Kookabuk and could not find him
anywhere. I asked my mother if she had seen
him. She sat me down and told me she had
given Kookabuk to a neighbor’s son who was
ill. Angry, I questioned why she gave my toy
away. She explained that the little boy was sick
and thought Kookabuk would cheer him up
and help him feel better. Explaining further
that, at 11 years old, I was a big boy now and
too old to play with “dolls”. I remained very
upset and did not believe her when she said
that one day I would understand.
My mother was right. As I grew older, I
understood what she had done. I realized
Kookabuk probably helped that little boy as
much as he helped me when I was hospitalized
as a child. It was then that I had a light
bulb moment. As a wannabe author, I came up
with the idea of writing children’s books using
Kookabuk to help kids through difficult times.
What I couldn’t come up with was how he
would do it. That epiphany would occur many
years later.
A few months after Seth’s diagnosis I noticed
he was having difficulty coping with new
situations. Questioning a therapist as to what
I could do to help, she suggested using social
stories. She explained that these are stories used
to help children understand and prepare for
14 www.BrightFeats.com
/www.BrightFeats.com
