On the way out of the grocery store today with Brooke this afternoon, I watch a father trying to coax his 20-something year old, 6’2″ son with what appeared to be autism into the store – the father was gentle and obviously skilled after however many years of having to do what he was doing, but he was still having extreme difficulty convincing is son it was time to go in.
I could not help, but for a moment, feel anger – not toward the father or the son, but to the situation and whatever deity put them in that situation.
I know children seldom grow into the expectations parents have of them – Lord knows that A) in some ways, my life is completely different from what my dad envisioned for me and B) my own children have already changed (not for better or worse) what I envision for them as adults – but I can’t imagine that this father, some twenty plus years ago thought that he would be doing what was required of him today. I imagine he foresaw his son leaving for school or taking a job and living independently.
Autism and other debilitating disorders do that – they don’t just change the dreams we have for our kids, they can crush them.
Brooke was brushed more lightly than others with autism. She does not have Asperger’s, but she is verbal and she is socially motivated. I see a kid that wants to be part of society, wants to contribute…someway, somehow.
Maybe my long-term expectations are high; maybe they are unrealistic…
…maybe part of the reason that I got a little angry this afternoon was that I was afraid that I was getting a glimpse of the future…
Run Luau Run 
No way we can know what the future holds, no way. Don’t start shoveling snow Luau, until there is snow in the driveway, okay? Okay.
Maybe, but remember that our kids have a lot more resources than the young man you saw. That dad may have helped blaze a trail that is helping my son and your daughter today. It’s disheartening, even debilitating, to think about a future of caring for adult children, but our kids have parents who love them and do everything we can for them. Many typical kids face worse odds.
Or maybe you just really need a run 😉
Hugs, I’m with you. I have those anger flashes. But more when I hear a mom/dad complaining about their kids running to fast for their ages, or chatting to much, or just complaining that they do to many creative things that place them in troubles…
Because I envy that and hurts to see People do not see how lucky their kids are.
As Brooke, my son has a lighter brush, as you said, of autism, still he doesn’t speak but he will get there eventually. I can see that, we are lucky. You and Me, we can now see how INCREDIBLE the world is with all its differences.
Most people do not see that.
Hugs
I agree with Sara H-S that we don’t know what the circumstances are/were for that family. The fact that the young man had his father with him instead of a caregiver, to me, speaks volumes about the love he has in his life.
The way I look at it Luau , Anger sometimes is what drives us to look at what we can do to help change that at which pisses us off or hurts us. Personally that is what drives me to not accept that this is all there is , it drives me to say what might I change or take a chance with to help my son to progress forward to the life I envisoned for him , even if it is slightly altered in some way . We all know it is not easy, no matter the degree with ASD.
Whenever I am around someone that says ~ It is what it is ~I get so angry
To me that implies that something can never change and that we should accept that it will never change and the one thing about change is it comes to you without your permission or request sometimes and always unexpected .
We never know what the future holds in store for us or our children , but what I do know is for some reason you were put at that spot in time to witness that particular Father and Son.
Makes you think.
And Yes Brooke will contribute , she is already contributing , more than you know.
I think we all get those kind of anger flashes… but let it be anger and not resignation. Part of it for me is that at this moment in time I cannot fathom how life will play out for my son (and my husband and I), and I get scared, too.
My philosophy about so many things in life, and especially our son’s autism, is to hope for (and aim for) the best, but prepare for the worst. I don’t know if he will ever live independently, but my goal is to be financially, physically (thus the running), and mentally ready in case he can’t, while all the while putting in the work and resources now to give him the best chances possible to be “successful”.
At least there IS a future for you both. Would you feel better or worse if he/she was not here? I can tell you what my answer was. One is now 37 and the other 35..on their own and thriving! Stay strong and believe in them and your love for each other!