KEVIN, CHUCK, AND MY NEWFOUND WORRY

New worries can come to me like lyrics to Bono.  I can be just sitting there minding my own business when all of the sudden I get an unannounced and not-very-friendly emotional prostate exam.  Suddenly something that just a few moments ago was not even on my worry radar has suddenly shown up in my heart with a sterile white glove and an attitude.

He is going into fourth grade for God sakes.  I am not ready to hear this... 

"I have a crush...and I want her to have one on me too".  - Noah

Crap.  Too soon.  Too freaking soon.  No crushes allowed until you are 30 and you have a job and a dog and your dog has a job.  What the heck Noah???  I mean I must have been in High School before I started talking like that.....actually it was fourth grade too.  Her name was Stacey B. and she smelled like fruit rolls ups and had a smile so radiant that it could melt the skin off your face. 

So when Noah whispered this to me the only thoughts that came into my head were:

Damn you Kevin Arnold.

Charlie Brown, you can bite me.

You two melodramatic chumps are making me worry tonight.  Yes, I know neither of you really exist.  But if you did I would  glove slap both of you and make you go ten paces with me at dawn while holding civil war pistols.  Just to complete my vision I would look like Richard Gere in Sommersby. 

As if I didn't have enough to worry about, you two show up in my brain like drunk roommates the night before a big final. 

Sigh.  I will get back to this.


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A LITTLE SNOW, A LITTLE WHISKEY, AND A WHOLE LOTTA INTROSPECTION


A May winter storm is raging beyond my walls. 

I am sitting in a dark room typing my the white light of my computer screen, and my breath smells like Jameson Whiskey and chocolate whiskey.  Tonight I won't share a funny half-made up story, or some special life lesson I learned while sipping on coffee.  I think if I tried to write anything like that right now I believe my soul would exit my body and scissor kick me so hard that the force of my body hitting the wall would create a wormhole portal between our dimension and another one where disco not only refused to die but eventually caused the entire world to be bathed in polyester and shag.

While the Cheyenne landscape is being covered in a few coats of deep wet snow I am in no mood to spin a happy blog entry tonight.  Five years ago when I began blogging I swore in my initial post that I was not going to make this some sort of vanity project.  I was going to do this in hopes that I could give the millions of worries in my heart a chance to vent in hopes that would cause them to vanish like MC Hammer.  It was my own brand of psycho therapy...I would share the joys, heartaches, victories, ass-kickings, the moments of truth, the moments of incredible doubt, and the other craziness of being John Roedel ( a lost soul, father of a child with autism, husband, and overall schlep) in hopes that I would learn more about myself.   To dig in my own dirt for a while and see what lies underneath the top soil. 

What I have discovered through my hundreds of blog entries is a dude who is scared.  If you were to break down my entries one by one you would find a guy who is afraid of bugs, deer, clowns, green food, social interactions, the future, the past, the present, falling space debris, people who own exotic animals, class reunions, job interviews, movies with talking babies, chain link fences, my lack of machoness, earthquakes, Lady GaGa, conflict, becoming grown up, folks who use "LOL", lawn care, and autism.

The list of my fears is like a flowing river that is fed by a vast sea of deep neurosis.  If I ever laid my head down on the not-too-soft leather couch in a therapist's office I am certain I would have enough material to put their children through college. 

What blogging has taught me is that I am a mess.  I am hot mess that smells like BBQ, apparently Irish Whiskey, woman's deodorant, and coke. (the drink, not the Belushi killer)  Through the many blog entries you would think that I would solve the riddles of my life and move on. I haven't.  Even though I have found some direct answers to some of my greatest obstacles I am still haunted by one demon fear.

Autism.

In my past Autism-related entries I have dealt with the subject by using humor, sharing experiences that inspired me, or at least acting like I have all my shit together and putting on a brave face.

Tonight there will be no brave face or inspirational story.  Just my new fear and one prayer....

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AUTISM IS ALWAYS HERE

It's always here.  Like a never passing cloud that looms over our home....or like the rash you picked up in Hong Kong.  It is always here and I will always be afraid of it.

I have come to grips with the fact that no matter what happens I will always be afraid of autism.  It is a theme that comes up often in my writing.  It shows up because I cannot control it.  I cannot control that my son has it.  I cannot control how the world will receive him.  I cannot control the way it tries to keep him locked up from the world.  I cannot control how helpless it can make me feel at times. 

Yes, I have found peace through our families journey into the wilds of Autismland.  I have been witness to miracles and moments of breakthrough that are soaked with more hope than any homily I have ever sat through. I have seen my son flourish in ways that I never had expected and I have been able to be lucky enough to be able to watch my little boy work so incredibly hard to pull himself out of the stone well he finds himself so deeply in.  I have seen the light at the end of the autism tunnel.

The problem is just like our universe the autism tunnel our family walks down continues to expand.  Just when I feel like we have made it over the last hurdle there is another dozen of them waiting for my Middle-Earth like legs to try and leap over.   There have been cognitive hurdles, verbal hurdles, and academic hurdles. They never end. There is always a next hurdle....and the next one that is heading my way scares me to my 5'3 core.

The hurdle is not one I can help him over.  It's one that he will have to leap on his own.  In the past it has been a team effort.  The one that casts a shadow in front of Noah is imposing and covered in a thousand little razorblades. He has to jump it, alone.  No daddy's are allowed to help.  I should have known it was coming...but I was too busy looking behind us at the ones we had just jumped.  This newest hurdle didn't make itself known to me until Noah whispered " "I have a crush...and I want her to have one on me too".

The new fear tonight is not "my son is girl crazy".  Because he isn't.   I am not worried that he is turning into a the Fonzi of Sunrise Elementary.  Although that would be kind of cool if he could drive me around town in a motorcycle....This isn't a girl/boy thing.  It is a boy living with autism/rest of society thing. 

My greatest fear is I am starting to become aware now that my son is going to always be in a position to have his heart broken.  Noah will always be standing under a dangling piano that is hanging by a string.  The fact is, he is going to ask this little girl he has a crush on if she has a crush on him.  He is going to do so because he wears his heart on his sleeve.  He is going to do so because he is brave.  This is going to be a theme of his for his entire life.  Noah is a lover and he will put himself out there and ask the world what they think of him.  He loves people like it is his job...but that job comes with serious risks.

Sonofamonkypoopeatingvarmitkisser. 

Ok...so I am 5'2.  



                       
THE ROLE MODELS OF HEARTACHE

Ok...so back to my issues with Kevin Arnold and Charlie Brown. 

Kevin  had Whinney Cooper.  He loved and pined for her only to have his heartbroken more times than a Cub's fan.

Charlie had the little red-haired girl.  He loved and pined for her only to have his heart stepped on like it was a roach.

For a long time I rooted for each of them to earn the girl of their dreams because they never gave up.  Now of course years later I may agree that they were kind of stalkers...but still they were both pretty endearing in their attempts to win the love of their maiden.
Each time they got their hearts crushed they would show back up the next week in the next episode/cartoon without any emotional scars from what had just happened to them.  They were each like the terminator of the heart.  No matter what humilation they each endured they kept putting their hearts in harms way.

It only took a couple times for me to realize that my heart could not take as much punishment as Chucky Browns and Kevin Arnold's.  Nobody's can.  We can only get hurt so many times before we start to avoid it.  We build social barriers so that those things are difficult to have happen to us.  

I am both proud and depressed to admit that my Noah will never do that. 

He is going to be like Kevin and Charlie.

His soul is firmly rooted in the present.  He loves with his whole heart and body.  He tied to the here and now.  Noah doesn't care about what happened five days ago.  His primary thoughts are about how he is feeling right now.  Autism has helped shape my son to become someone who will always forgive and forget.  He will love everybody even if they have in the past caused him deep heartbreak.  Like Kevin he will show up in the next episode even after having his chest ripped open just a few days earlier. 

Noah is built for the right now, not the past, or the future.  No matter how many times he may get slammed he is going to get back up and ready himself for the next opportunity for love. 

It is because of that fact that I will always be in awe of him!

He can have a crush on whomever the hell he wants....

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THE LESSON IS:  ROEDEL IS AN IDIOT

Here is the bottom line.  I will always be a worry wart.  I am going to fret about everything...and Autism will always be there to kick me in the cha-cha-son-son's at least once a day.  But...damn...it is time to start letting go a bit.  How can I spend my time worrying about how the world is going to respond to my son's wide-eyed living?  He is going to love everyone he meets.  And some of those people are going to reject him.  He will get over it in about 3 seconds.  Why not try living more like him.  Love people like it is my job.  Because it is.

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MY PRAYER



God,

Please help me get over myself and realize that my worrying is only getting in the way of my son living his life.
Please help me to be brave like he is.
Please help me be as forgiving as he is.
Please help me as loving and kind-hearted as he is.

It's time for me to stop living my life in fear.
It's time for me to stop writing without the proper punctuation.
And it's time for me to quit watching Celebrity Apprentice.  It's making me dumber....

Also....

Please help me find my I-Pod.  It's been a month and I still can't find it.
Please help me figure out how I am going to shovel out tomorrow when I broke my old shovel and don't have one.
Please help me not have the dream about being chased by apparent mall cops....you know the one.
Please help me stop eating so unhealthy.  But don't help me by giving me a medical scare.  I don't respond well to crisis. 
But you know that already...

Bless all the parents of children living with autism.
Ease their hearts of guilt, stress, and anger.
Remind them to not waste time on things they cannot control.
Remind myself that my job is to not keep my children from being hurt.
My vocation is wipe tears, high five, and to hold their hand as long as they will hold mine.

Oh, can you help me figure out what the heck is going on in Lost?  It's confusing.
Sorry that I cussed in this blog entry. 

Amen.

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GOODNIGHT NOAH



Dear Noah,

You are amazing.

Keep loving people like it is your job.  Because it is.

Let's keep teaching each other.

Let's keep fixing each other.

Let's keep remind each other who we are.

Love,

Dad.

p.s.  Do you know where my Ipod is?

 
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As sung between parent and child.