Cue the Music

One of our autistic son’s pleasures is music.

He’s done well in music therapy, even showing some potential on drums.

He’s eclectic in his tastes.  He likes Disney movies for their music; he enjoys soundtracks by Rodgers and Hammerstein; and now and then he gets hooked on a popular song and tracks it down on YouTube to play over and over.

Now that he’s in his own residence, reminders of his likes and quirks sneak up on me as pleasures rather than form a constant din.  That happened quickly.  We’ve been less than a month with him living elsewhere.

This frosty morning, too early, I hopped in the car to go to work and punched on the car radio.  This was playing:

I don’t know why our son took a liking to this song years ago, but it’s one he circles around to every few months.

I started laughing and got a bit misty eyed on the short drive to work.  The song had me thinking fond thoughts and offering little prayers for our son.

We have him over once a week.  It’s not a long distance relationship.  But tender thoughts move in quickly to drive out the anxious energy that care giving required and sustained over decades.

I’m liking this aspect of the change.

One week at HIS house

Our son just accomplished his first week in a staffed group home.

He’s here at home our place (yes, we’re trying to call the new house HIS home) to spend the night.  This afternoon and evening will include a haircut by his fave stylist and a pizza party with her family.

The week was a case of “no news is good news” since not hearing from the staff meant no problems.

20171208_135432When I went to pick him up at HIS HOUSE (I must keep practicing this) he was comfortable in HIS greenish recliner ($50 at a used hotel furniture place).  I simply told him that we were going to mom-and-dad’s house for a haircut and pizza with his stylist and her kids.

He came along just fine – although he was a bit confused by my car sitting in HIS driveway.  He turned toward the garage to look for the house van.  He’s already into all of the routines of HIS NEW HOUSE.

Once at our place, he got in a hug from mom.  He was a bit miffed that the Christmas tree is down, but that didn’t last long.

Now he’s taking a short nap in his old bed (with a cushy new blanket he got for Christmas.  Friends provided a second cushy new blanket for HIS house and it even goes with HIS drapes.

This is going well.

Of course there’s the trite line from the old Westerns, It’s quiet.  TOO quiet.