"To me, autism can be a superpower. What does it mean in your case? It means your child is sensitive, and he doesn't have time for bullshit. How can that be a bad thing?"
The family counselor is remarkably professional. She always apologizes for being late -- though she is never actually late. She dresses in neutral tones. She has a way of radiating positive energy -- if it's an act, it's a very persuasive act. In her view, my daughter is headed for the Presidency of the United States. That would be great -- also, no one else actually has this suggestion for my daughter. The "plan" seems to come from nowhere.
I say, "I just want to know that my son can eventually date, meet someone, be paired off."
The counselor shrugs. "Maybe, and maybe not. Who says there is just one way to be happy?"
We meet once per week. I send a weekly agenda. The agenda sounds like a "found object" poem -- the counselor says it could be printed on tee shirts for new parents. "Brattiness and inattention/ appropriateness of iPad use at Funplex/ sleep boundaries/ Pokemon."
We go through the list. Occasionally, my stories become digressive and irrelevant -- why do I need to talk about Stephen Sondheim if the ostensible topic is my own children? The counselor cuts me off. "What do you need from me? What are you actually saying right now?"
She is also the one -- literally, the one and only -- person in my world who will say, "Dan's mind is wandering. He isn't paying attention anymore. He gets to leave and take a walk around the block."
Very grateful to have this person in my life.

great picture!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
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