09/24/2025
I honor all the parents, guardians and caregivers who work tirelessly to secure independence for all young adults with such challenges…
A few days ago our son Jack called to say he’d already spent his money for the week.
He's in a residential program. He takes college classes. We've been working on helping him keep a budget.
We sat on opposite ends of the couch, trading the phone back and forth, trying to calm him down.
I heard your voice rise and fall in frustration. You reminded him to keep track of his receipts. To have a plan.
I felt my own nervous system rise with your voice.
I was determined to stay quiet—to not get involved in the father-son exchange. This is hard work for me. I often want to intervene and explain.
When we hung up, you and I argued.
I know a budget is important.
At the same time, it takes so little to make him happy. A movie and some popcorn. His favorite pizza for dinner.
As so often happens, a disagreement about money bloomed into something larger, the way a small spill on the rug becomes a stain.
Behind our words is a story all its own.
Benath your voice, I heard the weight of a Forever Father’s commitment to providing for his son for as long as he is alive. It is a heavy burden.
This is an Autism Marriage.
It is real and raw.
We alternate. One worries, the other hopes.
One pushes, the other soothes.
All the while, our ribcages vibrate with thoughts of the future.
What will happen when we’re no longer here?
The next morning I sat at my desk. Our argument hung over me like a fog. The sky was a brilliant blue. The clouds looked like they have something to say, if only I could read them.
The truth is we have not yet learned how to parent a young man with autism.
The younger problems of years past feel much easier.
Getting him to stack blocks, sit through dinner, finish a worksheet, use a fork.
Now, we have things like over-texting, budgeting, dating apps, loneliness, sexuality.
We have to find a way to root from the sidelines - to love him through his mistakes, his mishaps, his lapse of judgement.
It’s unchartered territory. There is no handbook for life when autism stops being cute and quirky.
Today, Jack called. He had a plan. He made a spreadsheet and a list of expenses.
He did this because of you.
He did this because every Saturday morning you brought him to the bank.
You showed him how to make a deposit, sign his name, and check his balance.
You taught him how to reach for all that is rightfully his.
Marriage is hard.
Building a family is messy.
I honor the work you did to get this boy here.
