What We Do for Each Other

This is Day 12 of the Ali Family #AutismTruths – April 12, 2017.

Dear D,

Whenever time comes for us to take a family vacation or trip somewhere, I always somewhat dread it (even if it’s a trip to the beach, which is our gold standard, tried-and-true go-to family vacation/retreat spot), though I feel guilty about that, like I should be more thankful and positive.

Do you?

What do you think when you see me doing the prep cooking, packing your meds, putting bags in the kitchen area for your Baba to load in the car, gathering your favorite MagnaTiles and Lego blocks to pass the time in the car, hustling your brother and sister through numerous tasks?

Are you like – Dear God, not again. How long will we be sitting in the car for this time? I’ll put up with it if it’s to the beach. But you told me we’re not going to the beach this time. Yeah, I don’t know about this.

Or, are you like – Ok, I’ll give this a shot. I hate long car rides and being enclosed for so long with you all. Don’t get me wrong – I love you and everything, but I need my space. You all are too much sometimes.

About five or six years ago, you were all about the car. At every opportunity, you wanted to sit in the car and drive. It didn’t matter where. It didn’t matter who was doing the driving – you just wanted to be in that car moving. Stop lights and slow patches were your enemy. So many times, the family would be sitting down to dinner, and you’d start getting upset and pull me to the door to go sit in the car.

But now it’s the complete opposite. It seems pretty obvious to me that the last few years, if you’re given the choice of going anywhere in the world or stay home, you choose staying home – preferably putting some space between yourself and the rest of us. I know that’s part and parcel of being a teenager – who wants to hang out with mom, dad and their little brother and sister?

Part of me knows it stems from your autism and needing space from a world that comes at you pretty fast, assaulting your senses, your routine and your comfort levels.

Car rides are most precarious, which makes long car rides a daunting thing for which we prepare with precision and prayer. But we still do it – from driving the two -three hours to visit your grandparents to seven-12 hour drives to any numerous destinations for vacations, the beach or even to see some of your specialized doctors.

Because as difficult as car rides are, at least we are the only ones confined to that space with each other – free to be with each other however we want to be, stop when we want to stop, eat what we want to and sit pretty much however we want to. Where I can sit near you and act as your buffer between you and the world and help try and maintain as much of a safe equilibrium as possible.

Which leads us all to now – sitting here in this quiet cabin ensconced in the mountains, getting ready to pull up our stakes and come home.

Did you enjoy your time here? Or, did you tolerate all of this for our sake? Maybe that’s your gift to us – putting up with these car rides and these family activities, coming along to these rinky-dink arcades and amusement parks where your youngest brother gets his kicks riding a go-cart, or (not so) gamely hanging out in the car or a park area while they go hiking, zip-lining or whatever else.

That’s what families do for each other, right? Try and find things that we all enjoy doing together. Or, be there with each other when some of us are embarking in activities of interest to that person. You do this for us as much as we do this for you.

Today the five of us got in an all-terrain vehicle and went driving in a mountainous park. Then we found a restaurant with a quiet, closed-off room and had lunch together. It was dusty, loud, fast, fun, warm, windy and a full-on sensory onslaught. I know that was hard for you, but it also looked like you had some fun.

Did you?

I hope so.

Love, your Mamma