Recently, I was out to dinner with a close friend. We go back to the care-free days of bachelorhood, when worrying about only ourselves was all we cared to contemplate. Thirty years later, he has three kids now out of the house in various states of college or post-college doings. Since his wife was occupied with her buddies, he was freed up for sushi.
I never lead with the challenges my son Luke now faces as Autism sabotages his young-adult well being. However, if asked, particularly by a close friend, I will provide a complete picture. Lately, aside from debilitating attacks of anxiety about lost routines he can’t get back, our most frustrating reality is that nobody we can count on is available to stay with Luke should we want to go out together without him.
My wife, Sue loves nothing more than to attend the weddings of her friends’ offspring. For several years now such invitations have flowed in regularly, and most always Sue goes solo while I stay home with Luke. The daughter of one particular friend is marrying an exceptional young man in August. We have both gotten to know the couple, so it was a wedding I was keen on attending. What to do about Luke?
The mother of the bride made clear it would be fine for him to attend. I was not enthused. Luke is audible and unconcerned with public strictures on his impulsive commentary. Moreover, he is always the center of attention, exactly wrong for a celebration rightly focused on the newlyweds. Finally, there is little doubt who would be responsible for keeping up with his mania during the reception. No thanks.
Relating this predicament to Bob, he floored me with one simple sentence. “Why don’t Kim and/or I just come over and hang out with Luke? What’s the date?” It was flabbergasting as it was direct, banal as it was extraordinary. Taken aback, I protested that I wasn’t fishing around for help. Bob shrugged that he knew that, but nonetheless it seemed like no big deal and he wanted to do it. Bob has always been one of Luke’s favorites; the whole thing couldn’t have made more sense. I accepted his offer and we moved on to the soft shell crab tempura rolls.
Reflecting on his offer later, I remembered back to a church support group Sue and I attended nearly 20 years ago, when the wound of Luke’s diagnosis was still fresh. This was a mega church, with a head pastor who started an entire ministry for intellectually disabled kids because his daughter is one of them. So the support group was popular, with more than ten couples ruminating weekly about our common trials and tribulations. Most all had children with Autism, some far more affected than others. Even so, there was one sad refrain everyone shared: family and friends were underwhelming in their offers to help.
“Why can’t my sister understand the crisis I face and offer to come over and help more often? … My best friend has two healthy kids; why won’t she plan more play dates with my son?” … And so forth. Of course, as years passed most of us matured out of the narcissistic notion that our particular challenges dictated that everyone else close to us stop what they were doing and plunge headlong into our circumstances. Those who didn’t develop this understanding often ruined the relationships they needed most, and dealt with even more isolation, more heartbreak.
Sue and I long ago put to bed most all resentment of family and friends for not stepping up as much as we’d hope. You live long enough, you understand that everybody has full plates and are dancing as fast as they can. Expecting that your hardship should distract them from the hand they’ve been dealt makes helping you more burden than fulfillment. Possessing this understanding makes my buddy Bob’s offer special, and it’s why I am confident that when we return from that wedding, Bob will leave heartened that he was able to provide a genuinely appreciated solid for his friends. Who knows? He may even offer again.
There is a useful place for this same reasoning in our national confrontation with MAGA nihilism. That embracing Trumpism reveals biases and character flaws seems obvious to those cognizant of its pervasive malevolence. It’s why so many family ties and friendships have frayed badly since 2016. Sadly, even tragically, it’s equally clear that generalized apathy has permitted Fox/AM an open playing field to radicalize millions because they have not faced sufficient blowback that voicing lies and relentless propaganda warrants
The first of these facts offers few options. Abiding enthusiasm for MAGA does nobody any favors, least of all the enthusiast. But the second situation requires attention, with a premium on patience and empathy; estrangement from those we value most because they don’t agree with us enough is as wrong as it is unnecessary. Moreover, there is little doubt that convincing, rather than alienating those who still have their wits about them, but are to varying degrees more resistant to allowing MAGA’s assault on our governance to distract them from routine, is perhaps the only chance America has to avoid the cataclysm of Trumpist rule.
All of which circles back to my buddy Bob. Born and raised in Kentucky, he is highly educated, an engineer as mechanically adept as anyone I have known. That said, Bob keeps his politics close to the vest, and his view on things, particularly the federal government’s proper role in our lives, has certainly been influenced by his lineage. Also, he categorizes such civic obligations downward on his list of life’s priorities.
Several years ago, right about when the Democratic Presidential primary was heating up, we hosted Bob and his wife, Kim, for dinner. Perhaps too much alcohol had been poured, but after a great evening, the discussion turned to politics and things went south. Bernie Sanders appeared to be surging and Bob said matter-of-factly he would have problems voting for a socialist. I sought clarity that, of course, he meant when voting in the primary…he would surely support any Democrat vs. Trump, right? He replied that, no, he wasn’t fully certain of that; he would have to weigh the issues during the general campaign. His irresolution on the matter stunned me, and I wasn’t having it. Issues?! Really?! Trump is the issue! When the dust had settled, angry words had been exchanged and a fun night was ruined. A very old friendship was in jeopardy.
Sue was so furious with me she demanded I drive over to their place that night if necessary to make amends. At that moment, after five years of allowing a plethora of friends, acquaintances and even a couple of family members to take a hike out of my life, I understood clearly where the line was and why it must be respected always, without exception. Luckily, Bob answered his phone that evening. I fell completely on my sword and our friendship endured. I’ll be able to fully focus my attention on quality reception finger food come August.
Our nation’s house is on fire, MAGA arsonists the cause. Whether we can douse the flames will depend on how many can be recruited to man a hose. A sweet spot exists somewhere between condemning their seeming nonchalance and figuring that general apathy is an intractable fact of life. Our democracy’s survival depends on us finding it. One Bob at a time. BC