Dogs and the Horizon

Love, pain, watchfulness, fear, despair, exhilaration, exhalation and wonder; these are the emotions of a parent. A single minute, no, a mere fleeting moment can run you through the whirling wheel that evokes each of these emotional states. The cascade happens regularly as you stand watching your child. You understand what he is feeling but you also understand so many things that he doesn’t yet. Still no matter how much every piece of your being wants to intercede and help make every situation work out well you have to let him live his life. A parent prays a great deal. Entreaties are made no matter whether you believe in God or nature. You pray earnestly that if your child should fall that the pain will be bearable.

Primus is my oldest son. He is a moose of a boy. His music camp is over. Both the double bass and the moose boy are squeezed into a tiny Prius for the trip home. After a week of food largely ignored because every morsel has been drenched in mayonnaise and other unappealing binding agents, the moose is ready to forage. As we peruse the menu at this drive-in, this last vestige of 1950s American car culture, he has made his choice. Now he looks out the other window away from the menu board. Suddenly smiling. Primus yells a loud greeting. He has just seen a camp cabin mate walk by our car. The shout out was absolutely nullified by the closed car window. Sitting at the drive in carefully considering this order of dogs and fries the air conditioning is on and the window is up. Hot summer this one.

Realizing how special a moment this is when he says “I have to go over to say hi to Sam”, Mom and I say in unison “Go”. With that Primus pushes the door open and strolls ‘aw shucks’ hands in pocket to where the boy in the other blue camp uniform is eating hot dogs with his family. We watch as drawing close Primus leans back against a wall and starts talking and gesturing in a warm and friendly way. The boy's posture mirrors James Dean's in Rebel Without a Cause. In 14 years of life this was a first.

Aspergers defines who my son is. Sometimes sadly it also defines how people perceive him. Aspergers makes getting to know him difficult and challenging. But it also makes him interesting, if you take the time to make real contact. Primus comes at the world in his own way and he doesn't seem to care a whit about what you think. In some ways that is a true thing and a meaningful statement, but in others it is not. Primus wants to be liked but not necessarily on the terms and in the ways social convention delineate.

In the past year Primus’ teachers have told us that he is trying to make social connections. They say he is working hard to find ways to respond to social cues. He wants to act in ways that are at least consistent with the behaviors of other kids he goes to school with. Primus clearly wants to be part of the world of people. It is by his choice that he works to be on a sport’s team. But the hidden cues in our faces confound him. The unspoken rules are unknown to him. Vocal tones don’t carry clear meaning to him. Sorting these things just doesn’t come naturally.

But I must turn back to the incident at Dog and Suds with the boys in the blue shirts. The blue shirts are part of the uniform at the Blue Lake Fine Arts camp. The folks at Blue Lake must be different. This is the third year Primus has been and each time he goes we find something new and positive that gives us optimism.

The first year we were overjoyed when the kids after the final concert were saying things like, "Primus you are coming back next year aren't you?" Nobody had ever invited him back for an event unless they were forced to, or needed to for one reason or another. The comments in that informal moment backstage were different, it was clear these boys liked him.

Year two it was the banter around the cabin as he was packing to go. Again the kids seemed to genuinely care about Primus and what was up with him and his plans for the rest of the summer. The counselors that year told us how much they had enjoyed him. They made it clear that it really wasn't an issue that he had Aspergers and that he was a good kid.

Leaving the car to go seek out someone else to talk was watershed moment. Before our wide open eyes Primus instigated an outreach to another person because he liked them and because he wanted to keep a contact with them. Wow. My wife and I stared at each other as he opened the door and walked down the sidewalk. It was a moment we had wanted for so long. Reaching a point where social reciprocity was wanted is something.

Trust me the world didn't not turn upside down but it was a start. When we got home the first thing out of his mouth to his brother Secundus was "Be quiet you." But the command was warm, not just barked out in routine fashion.

Maybe it is just the maturing process. On the way to the car after his performance he carried his own instrument. About halfway up the path to the car I offered to carry it the rest of the way and he readily agreed. But he made the effort to carry the heavy instrument at least for the first part of the way. Taking responsibility was a change.

When we talked in the car on the ride home he tried to make conversation. The answers weren't much different than they usually are. What was the funniest thing that happened? I dunno. What did you enjoy most? I dunno. Did you have fun? Yes. I assume that some of this is just pure teenager. However I know that some of it is pure Aspergers. He doesn't rank emotional experiences the way I do. It just doesn't happen like that.

Sitting at Dog and Suds I looked out at the lake. The sky was blue and the air temperature was as comfortable as it had been in weeks. A tray of death dogs and greasy burgers and onion rings had arrived. The smell of such food is wonderful. The moment was perfect. Primus was happy and connected. I could have cried. Some days are better than others. Blue skies do come. Success can be attained. I felt so good that I went home and cleaned the garage. Sweating I picked through years o f accumulated crap. The work was hard I was motivated. It had a day to remember. This was worth much more than the price of admission to music camp.