But on the gift front, we are stalled. We were messaging with his older brother last night, and at a loss for ideas.
His gift choice for most of his life has been movies – – – in VCR format. (The link takes you to a piece from the Wall Street Journal, which, if you can get past the subscription sales pop-ups, speaks fondly of the technology as antique and having reached its demise.)
Actual morgue photo.
You can still find VCRs for sale, but they’re increasingly expensive and impossible to maintain or service. Our son is a button pusher extraordinaire, and the contraptions give up the ghost to that or to the funk of his very old video collection.
We are feeling for him. Melissa points out that this has been one of the principal pleasures of his life, and now it’s gone. He’s chafing at our suggestions of watching his movies on his computer, but that seems the best way to go. He’ll trash or lose discs, thumb drives and other such media.
Anybody else made this transition? Wide open to suggestions, both on replacement media and techniques for helping him embrace it.
Here in South Dakota, the weather extremes must be navigated. If you plant before spring locks in, a frost can occur, and the annuals are history. In the midst of a broiling summer, a thunderstorm can sweep in and dump inches of water. You have mud puddles where your planting once shined. The blazing sun in the bright blue sky, like the pattern for our state flag, fries fragile flowers. The result is that we’re on hiatus from planting flowers here.
Joey’s autism does yeoman work of blowing up my fantasy of predictable order. Just when something seems to work, it breaks down. For example, Joey loved the water. One of my first memories of him appearing “normal” in public was at a beach where he ran out to the water and let the waves chase him back, all the while laughing just like the other little kids. But it wasn’t just the ocean. Any water made caring for Joey easier. Then he stopped liking water.
Give it a read. Hope it is helpful if you’re in the midst of a “things are getting away from me” mood. They are, of course, getting away from you. But you’re OK. No, not FEELING OK. You’re OK because you are, against all the evidence, the very best resource that the universe sends to those in your care.