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.