Monday, June 11, 2012

You Can't Always Get What You Want

 This is my Mom and Dad,  the people who put everything on the line for the 9 children that made up my crazy family.  I have a few fond memories of childhood but, the one thing that I will always remember is that my dad was mean. The constant chaos of having so many children crammed in a small home (with only one bathroom,) was more than he could handle.  Dad yelled a lot.  I was very afraid of him.  He was very unpredictable and we never knew if our actions would cause him to come unglued.  I constantly walked on eggshells.  I remember hiding in the closet with my sister (and BFF,) Jeanna, whenever Mom wasn't home in order to avoid his wrath.  It was difficult to have a conversation with him (still is) because he is ADD and obsessive-compulsive which makes him want to talk only about the things that interest him. and usually bore me.  Any relationship we had with Dad went through Mom.  She was the go-between, the buffer, the peace keeper.  Mom has earned her spot in heaven for all the times she refereed and stuck up for us, keeping Dad's full anger from landing on us.

I think I always believed that I wouldn't ever have a relationship with Dad.  He shows a lot of quirky behaviors and it is difficult to get to know him.  A lot of his behaviors really drove me crazy.  From his obsessive need to brush and floss at precisely 9pm, to his constant talk of his childhood or days in the Air Force, to his ability to get so engrossed in a game of Football on TV that he completely shut the world out, it was just tough to break through and bond with him. 

After a particularly bad time, Mom was talking about leaving.  Dad realized something wasn't right, and my mother convinced him to go to counseling. I think he learned a lot from that experience. The one thing that Dad has always had going for him is that he is teachable. He learned some coping skills while in  therapy that have made it easier for him to navigate life. 

Then my brother's three boys were diagnosed with autism.  Their behaviors were exactly like Dad's.  A lightbulb went on in our minds, and the mind of our mother.  As we learned more and more about autistic traits, we realized that Dad was also autistic.  We finally knew that he wasn't trying to be a mean man, he just lacked the ability to respond to frustrating situations in socially acceptable ways.  It took some time but, eventually, I began to see Dad in a different light.  I started to feel compassion instead of dislike, empathy instead of anger.  But still, I had no desire to forge a relationship with him. 


Carson, Mason
Then God saw fit to send me two autistic boys of my own. Two little identical twin boys that have done nothing but melt my heart since the day they were born. Two boys who exhibit the very same behaviors that my Dad has. Boys who have meltdowns when overstimulated, have little patience for small children, and obsessively take their growth shots at 9am and 5pm. (Sound familiar?) I began to see my dad in my boys, or, was I seeing my boys in my dad?


Part two in a couple of days...

2 comments:

Amelia said...

This was fascinating to me: so sad and so beautiful. Thank you for sharing it because I feel like my soul has reached out and expanded a little.

Creative Arts and Careers Consultants said...

I love the brutal honesty and beauty of your writing and can't wait for part 2!