Dearest Rachel –
So today, I’m dropping Daniel’s second tax installment payment in the mail, after having coached him yet again through the process of writing the check to the Department of Revenue. This evening, I’ll be walking him through setting up his first recurring tithe (well, not a ‘tithe’ per se, as it’s hard to determine 10% of one’s income on investments, especially when dealing with things like cost basis and so forth, but it’s the first word that comes to mind, and you and I both know what I’m talking about here), now that he has the capability, in terms of both wealth and income, to do so.
Meanwhile, I’ve just finished with my breakfast off a prepackaged container of fruit – a mix of strawberries and pineapple – that was meant for the both of us to share, since he likes those fruits, unlike the blackberries and raspberries I’d been getting at Aldi. I’d bought this fruit cup while the two of us were out at the local supermarket, trying to use up the month’s worth of coupons, and stock up on provisions in the process. He didn’t offer too many suggestions as to what he wanted, and I worry that whatever we bought, once I put in away in the pantry, fridge or freezer, he’ll never think of again – even the few things he asked for – unless I specifically ask him if he wants any of them (which requires that he be awake in the morning for me to do so, so… yeah, not gonna happen). In the meantime, I’m consuming all the stuff we got – which, admittedly, was part of the purpose of the shopping trip – but I feel like I should be leaving something for him, if only he’d make a point to use any of it.
I know that Daniel has certain disadvantages when it comes to taking care of himself, but I wonder if I’m doing too much handholding. He’s been known to go out and get lunch when he’s truly in the mood to do so, so he is capable of basic self-maintenance when the mood strikes him. But it happens so rarely that it leads me to wonder if I haven’t been (and still am) doing a bit too much for him, when he should be doing it for himself. The only problem is that, if I simply left him to do most things for himself, they would never get done, so… where’s the line?
I can’t use myself as a yardstick, either; none of this “when I was your age, son” schtick. Not only is annoying and thus counterproductive, it’s not a suitable comparison. While I may not have been a prodigy or savant, I dare say that I was ahead of the game in terms of the average kid. And ours was a generation that was required to be self-reliant, since, with both parents working (and that certainly applied to both you and me during our childhood, although you used to mention that your mom would try to arrange her schedule so that she would be home when you came home as often as possible), we often came home to an empty house and had to shift for ourselves. And while Daniel’s generational cohort dealt with a similar situation – perhaps even to a greater extent, in fact, as two working parents had just come into vogue during our childhood, whereas it had become pretty much the norm by the time we had him – he personally didn’t have to face that, as you were a stay-at-home mom, something of an anomaly for his time.
But given his condition, it was probably for the best. You actually studied to learn how to guide him through his formative and schooling years. You were an advocate for him as he coped with trying to be a normal student with Asperger’s (when it was still called that) whenever possible, as well as getting him the schooling he needed when mainstreaming wasn’t in his best interests; thankfully, such specialized education was available near us, both on elementary and tertiary levels.
Unfortunately, real life doesn’t offer such allowances; this is not graded on a curve. As the little green man put it, one must “do or do not; there is no try” (which admittedly, always struck me as silly – you have to ‘try’ in order to ultimately ‘do,’ but that’s beside the point); you don’t get points for just for the effort. He has to be able to do things on his own, and without help – you’re no longer here for him, and one of these days, neither will I. So I need to wean him off of being able to rely on me, just as we have been all this time. You’d think that, after nearly thirty years, he could manage. He has the resources, if he only knew how to access them – and had the desire to do so. I worry that it would take for him to be in a desperate situation for that to happen, and we’ve considered ourselves fortunate enough to give him a situation comfortable enough that this desperation never occurs. But in that case, is that all as fortunate as we thought, if he never sees the need to try?
As always, honey, I don’t have the answers. I’m trying not to be a helicopter parent, but with him under my roof, I wind up taking care of things for him as I deal with my own needs, so he never has to bother with them. Maybe we’ll see how he manages next spring, when I leave him in charge and on his own for three whole months. Until then, keep an eye on both of us, and wish us luck; we’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 