Last weekend, my parents came down for a visit, which is a pretty big deal since we hadn’t seen them since Christmas. For most people a visit like this maybe takes some extra cleaning and schedule clearing, but when you have a child with autism, things are a little different. Every day for a week before my parents were to arrive, I spent time showing her pictures on my iPod of my parents so that she would know their faces.
“Look, Julie: Grandma. Grandpa.” She would stare blankly for a long minute at the pictures, sometimes poking at their eyes and noses. “Grandma. Grandpa,” I would repeat, pointing to each one in turn. “They’re coming to visit. To see us.” She would continue to stare at the pictures for a moment, as if processing this information, then look at me briefly before wandering away to do something else. My other children were jumping around all over the house in excitement at the news that their grandparents were coming, Julie seemed either not to understand what was going on, or not to care. Julie is pretty much non-verbal (she has a vocabulary of may 20 words) though I do know that she understands nearly everything we say to her. I believe her reaction was really one of trepidation. Visitors mean a break in the ordinary routine, and worst of all, visits mean goodbyes - her worst transition of all.
The visit itself went pretty well. When my parents arrived Julie stood down the hallway for a moment while we all said hello, and then after the commotion had died down some, she stepped forward a bit and caught my mom’s attention. My mom knelt down for a hug, and Julie studied her face for a long moment before smiling and rushing forward to oblige. We were off to an excellent start. After a bit, my parents wanted to take everyone to a large park in town, so we loaded everyone up and off we went. The park is huge, with climbing castles, slides, swings, sandboxes, crawling tunnels, and pretty much anything you could imagine. Also, it was just as crowded as you could imagine a park this wonderful to be. My son and stepdad took off to where some other older kids were playing and climbing while my mom, husband and I took the three girls to the toddler section. It took less than five minutes for Julie to try her first escape, and it was an even shorter period of time before she tried her second. My husband took her hand so she could explore the other areas of the park while I spent some time with my mom.
“This place is fantastic!” she beamed.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“Do you come here with the kids a lot?”
“No, not really.”
“Why not? It’s really fantastic!”
I didn’t answer. What I was thinking in my head was that yeah, the park was fantastic, when we had one adult for each of my four children. Not so much when one of us has to devote all their concentration and attention on Jules, leaving only one other parent to keep an eye on three other children. It was just then that my husband came walking around the outside of the fence that surrounds the play area. He motioned me over and we talked quietly.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, she just doesn’t want to go into the park. It’s too much for her. We’ll try again in a bit.” And with that, she was leading him off for another lap around the park.
After a picnic lunch, Julie was finally used to everything enough to play with her sisters in the play area for a little while. As the afternoon wore on though, I could tell all the stimulation was starting to get to her. The bright sun, all the other kids laughing and running and shouting, the wind blowing, four separate pavilions each with a birthday party going on with colorful and shiny Mylar balloons catching the sun... heck, even I was starting to feel overstimulated by it all. Finally she pulled me over to the swings. I lifted her into one and pushed her gently back and forth as she stared straight ahead, glassy-eyed, her head resting against the chain. Every once in awhile I’d move in front of her and grab her legs, provoking a smile.
“See, she loves it here,” my mom walked over to say, just as I grabbed a foot to get a grin.
“Yeah, it’s a great park, mom.”
“You should really bring them here more often.”
“I know.”
After that, we took everyone home, and my parents headed back to their hotel. I’m glad that they didn’t have to see the screaming tantrum Julie threw after they closed the door, though I’m sure they heard the start of it. I’m glad they didn’t have to watch her stripping off all her clothes and laying under her weighted blanket in her dark room for an hour after they left. I’m glad that all they have of that day is a memory of a wonderful, beautiful day at the park with their grandchildren. Its better that they miss the hard and heartbreaking stuff.
