He is 30 years old.
He likes to laugh (although these photos don’t show that).
He enjoys food (that may be an understatement).
He likes to swing and jump on trampolines.
He loves music.
He loves his laser kaleidoscope.
He is fascinated by wind mills.
He likes nice tight hugs.
He enjoys a good nap.
Ryan is my son.
He is a brother.
He is a grandson.
He is a cousin.
He has autism.
Autism does not define Ryan, it is simply a part of who he is.