I’ve written
in the past about how much it means to me when someone “gets” Aaron. You know what I mean. It’s when a person out somewhere in a public
setting reacts to Aaron in a way that makes me know they totally understand
him. Or at least partially understand
him. I don’t know that even Gary and I
on some days totally “get” Aaron. This
past Friday night was an example of both.
Aaron and I
went to Subway to get our special Friday supper, as per Aaron’s request. One of the girls who began with our order was
very nice, but I could tell that she was nervous with Aaron. She was unsure of what to say to him, and
very unsure of what he was saying to her as he robustly placed his order.
“Can I have
a sub?” he bellowed, with me standing close by patting his arm in an effort to
soften his tone.
“And can I
have extra cheese?” he continued bellowing.
“My Mom says I can’t have extra cheese!” he rambled on as she was just
saying that he COULD have extra cheese, and so she glanced nervously at
me.
I told her
to go ahead with the cheese, which caused Aaron to bend over and rub his hands
together as he laughed in delight…..which caused her to attempt an uncertain smile
as she placed the extra cheese on the meat, all under Aaron’s watchful
eye. I wanted to tell her that it was OK….that
Aaron was loud but harmless…..but I didn’t do that with Aaron standing right
there. I just hoped my smile would
convey to her what I was thinking.
Just then,
the manager appeared and began helping with our order. I remembered her and she remembered
Aaron. This girl’s mother worked with
special needs and so she grew up around other Aarons. Therefore, she was very relaxed and affirming
toward Aaron.
“What you
need, Buddy?” she asked Aaron as she waited for him to complete his order. Nothing he said or did from that point on
phased her in the least. I think the
other server was as happy for her to take over as I was. Aaron was just very happy to finish his
requests, figure out the mayonnaise issue, and watch as his sandwich was
wrapped and labeled.
Yes, we deal
with watching others try to understand our Aaron nearly every day. I wanted to hug the two who were on duty at
Papa Murphy’s a couple weeks earlier.
They completely engaged Aaron on his level as they made our pizzas. Aaron stood there in total happiness as he
loudly talked to them about aliens and spaceships and rubbed his hands together
like crazy as they responded to him as if he was talking to them about school
or sports.
Then there
was the young man behind the counter at the theater yesterday, his eyes big
with uncertainty as Gary and I both exited the restrooms at the same time. Aaron was talking to him about the Star Wars
movie, I think it was, that we had just seen.
All I could focus on was the “Would you please rescue me?” look on the
boy’s face as he tried to figure out what to do with Aaron. Aaron loves a captive audience, and that boy
was just that. He looked it, too, as
Aaron talked loudly – of course!- and rubbed his hands together and
laughed. We tried to quiet Aaron and
lead him away but Aaron had more to say.
As we finally left, I laughed and I thanked the shocked young man. I really wanted to walk back to him and say, “You
have just encountered the amazing world of autism!” But I knew that Aaron would follow me and
pick up his story where he had left off, so I left well enough alone as we
walked to the van, Aaron talking all the way…..of course.
All of these
are mostly “Ha-Ha” funny moments. They
may be embarrassing to us at times, or frustrating, but they are not usually awful. Those more disturbing moments happen at his
day group and occasionally at home. That
was also the case on Friday night. We
went from hugs when Aaron came home from his day group to the joy of ordering
and eating subs to the downward spiral of Aaron’s cascading emotions.
It all
started with me realizing that Aaron wasn’t telling me the truth about his
rough day at Paradigm. I made an off
handed comment that hurt Aaron’s feelings, so after we watched Wheel of Fortune
he turned to me and had “that” look on his face and in his eyes. I knew then that he had started down that
track of frustration. Time proved that
evening that Aaron wasn’t going to be easily derailed. His emotions were in a turmoil, as were
ours. Yet if we escalated, it would only
serve to further escalate Aaron, which is the last thing that needed to
happen. He escalates very well on his
own, thank you. Gary and I tried to
exercise firmness with calmness. Just
when we hoped that Aaron had calmed, though, we would soon hear his heavy steps
coming downstairs to engage us once again in the battle that was going on in
his head. He was almost manic in his
laughter and in his efforts to unsettle us.
It truly is amazing to see, but not amazing in a funny way.
It’s the
other side of Aaron that we don’t see that often at home anymore. It’s him in a fight to express himself and
voice his hurt over his own actions, or over ours. But he simply cannot tell us with calm and
rational words what it is that is bothering him. Therefore, he chooses something that he knows
will either alarm or frustrate us, and he will go off on it over and over
again. Just when we think that our words
of great wisdom have reached into Aaron’s head, he starts all over again on
that same issue and our heads just bow down in defeat.
I sat in
Aaron’s bedroom with him late that night.
He sat on his bed, legs dangling, trying to express himself and his
emotions but clearly unable to do so in the way you and I would. But he was winding down, I could tell. I just needed to wait patiently, listen
closely, and pray silently. I literally
bowed my head in prayer as Aaron talked.
I knew he saw me but he never asked what I was doing. He may have thought Mom was falling
asleep. After all, it was after 11:30….way
past both our bedtimes!
At last he
said he was going to bed. I watched as
he pulled back his covers and then began arranging his snake, skunk, and frog
in perfect order. I wanted to rush over
and yank the covers up over Mr. Snake as Aaron worked and worked and worked to
turn his lower skinny stuffed body just the right way. But I knew that one wrong move could open up
Aaron’s emotions again, so I just stood and wearily watched. Finally all was well with the stuffed animals
and the pulled up covers.
I asked
Aaron if he was reading before he went to sleep.
“No,” he
said with no emotion. “It’s 11:47.”
I was
relieved.
“Mom?” he
asked. “’Guess what?”
And I knew
he had nothing to say. He does this when
he wants us to stay with him. He asks, “Guess
what?” and then tries hard to think of something to say.
“What?” I
answered.
“I’m wearing
my watch lower,” he said as he pulled his shirt sleeve up.
Maybe it was
a few centimeters lower, but it sure was hard to see the difference.
“Mom?” he asked again. “Guess what?”
“What?” I
repeated
“When
Independence Day Resurgence comes out, do you think the theaters will be
crowded?”
Sigh.
“I don’t
know, Aaron. We’ll just wait and see,” I
replied.
“Mom! Look at this!”
And at 11:49
I was looking at the back of the original Independence Day movie box and
talking about the plasma ray coming down from the spaceship.
Oh
dear. Would this night ever end?
But if
finally did, only after Aaron went up and down the steps several times to tell
Gary about plasma rays and new Independence Day movie news and to say good
night once again.
Earlier
during the evening, when Aaron was working through his anger, he began feeling
badly about his actions. He came to me
in the kitchen and had something in his hand he wanted me to take. I held out my hand, and Aaron gave me some of
his Mike and Ikes. They were sticky and
I’m sure covered in multiple germs, but he stood there waiting for me to eat
them. So I did, praying silently for God
to please strengthen my immune system at that moment.
“I wanted to
give you these Mike and Ikes since I’m sorry,” he explained as he waited for me
to enjoy them. So what could I do but
eat them?
And what can
we do but try our best to do what we hope others will do with Aaron. We appreciate the understanding that
strangers show to Aaron. Can we do
less? Understanding what makes him tick,
what makes him upset, what it is he is really trying to say when he is so upset……this
is all part of figuring him out.
It’s “getting
Aaron.” Not condoning behaviors, which
we don’t, but understanding the behaviors as much as a parent of a child with
asthma understands an asthma attack. I
thought of all this when I was sitting in Aaron’s room with him, watching him
come to the end of the fight, and realizing how vital it is that I understand.
It means as
much to Aaron for us to understand as it does to us for others to
understand. Complicated. But so very necessary.
Aaron? Guess what?
We’ll keep
trying to understand.
And I should
keep a box of Mike and Ikes stashed somewhere for good measure.
You are gifted with grace, dear Patty and Aaron is a blessing.
ReplyDeleteIsn't God's grace amazing, Kathy? I know that you see His grace in your life with your health needs. God knows just where He wants us so that His grace is able to fill us, even though sometimes it isn't easy. And you're right - Aaron is a blessing, wrapped in all sorts of paper. Some we enjoy, some we maybe don't so much, but it's all part of God's plan.
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