Before The Elephant Called "Autism" entered the room...

You know the "thing"...yes, that "thing" that decides what you and your family can do each day.  It decides where and when you go places and it decides how long you can stray from your usual routine.  That "thing" determines the family dynamics and social interactions.  I'm talking about that "thing" called "Autism" or "Autistic Spectrum Disorder".  We have wrestled with it for years now and just when we think we have a handle on it, it changes and we are back to square one again.  Well, I am calling it out.  Yes...you over there in the  middle of the room...you "ASD" thing.   You better get ready because I am taking some control back!  You will NOT be holding my family hostage anymore.  My sword is drawn and I am a mother bear protecting her cubs!  You'd better not turn your back on me!

Before I begin this battle, though, I'd like to talk about life before.  Before the elephant came to live in my house...you know, back when Ozzie and Harriet and the Cleavers showed us how to be "perfect" parents.   Back in the days when I was growing up (I am old.  I was born in late 1958 and my childhood was spent in the Sixties.), life was different.  Most people lived near where they had been raised and families were big...lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins.  It was like that for me, too.  My mother's parents not only helped raise a niece, but also opened their home to my grandmother's parents.  In fact, I can't remember a time when my great-grandparents didn't live with my grandparents.  It was wonderful for me but I suspect it was a lot harder on my grandparents than they let on.  I had two full sets of great-grandparents until I was in high school and I thought that was normal.  My parents made sure that my sister and I spent a lot of time with our great-grandparents and I learned a lot from them.  I learned what true love really was back in those days.  My great-grandfather treated his wife with tender care even when her mind diminished.  He took her to her favorite place...a campground where they had a trailer on a lake...and he took care of her.  He took such good care of her that while they were driving home and he felt a heart attack coming on, he pulled over into a parking lot as he died.  A kind stranger helped my confused and frightened great-grandmother, called an ambulance (all in the days before cell phones and 911), and stayed with her until help arrived.  That was the kind of world it was then...a stranger helping an elderly couple and then disappearing without leaving his name.

 It wasn't just my mother's family, though, it was my dad's family, too.  My dad was a young man in his twenties who worked hard to support his young family.  He and my mom had lost a son in the year before I was born...a newborn who suffered from "Rh Incompatibility" which could have been treated had they but known that he was at risk.  I was born the following year and then my sister was born a little more than 2 years after that...we were both at risk, but my parents made sure we were born in a hospital that could treat the disorder.  When I was 3 years old, my dad's father died in his sleep.  He was young...only in his 50's.  He had a wife, my dad, and two daughters who were much younger than my dad.  My parents gave up their little family life and moved into the small township where my father's family had land.  My dad not only worked full-time, but he took care of the family business and worked as a Deputy Sheriff.  Money was tight, but we didn't know it...we had fields to play in and barns and buildings to explore.  My youngest aunt was like an older sister to me...only 10 years separated us.  We had a trunk full of old dance costumes to dress up in, old-fashioned roller skates and cement pads to skate on....life was good.

Here's what I'm getting at...back in the "Good Old Days", families took care of themselves.  We all had that relative who was slightly "off" or maybe just socially awkward and we accepted them, loved them, and kept them with us in the family home.  I know not everyone was able to do that...there were people who had to be "Institutionalized" or put in a "Nursing" home.  Our family had to do that, too, and it was painful.  But, what I am awkwardly trying to say is this...back in the day, our options were limited.  We did what we had to do out of love as we still do today, but back then it was either home or institution.  Institution really meant warehousing...no real treatments, no social interaction, just a place to keep them.  Even though the world today is much different, we have options that weren't available back then.

Stay tuned, friends, for more on the story of the elephant and what I am doing to get it out of my living room.....