RSS
Home
Autism, public meltdowns, and the kindness of strangers
Print
Email
RSS
Subscribe
The movie RAIN MAN was released the same week that my husband and I took our three-year-old son Matthew for an evaluation with a child psychologist. He'd stopped talking and was obsessed with lights and wheels. After a series of tests, the child psychologist said that our son had some autistic-like behaviors, but that it was probably “just” another pervasive developmental disorder. We were determined to fix him.
My husband Peter and I bravely went to see RAIN MAN the next week. The main character in the movie, played by Dustin Hoffman, was Raymond, a man with severe autism who lived in an institution. He was obsessed with routine and rocked and screamed when his schedule was disrupted. Raymond had difficulty making eye contact and mumbled amazing facts and figures that had no practical pertinence. When the movie came out, autism was considered rare.
Peter and I decided that Matthew would never be like Raymond. But we were terrified that he might.
Little did I know that 15 years later, when Matthew was eighteen, I would experience the perfect Rain Man moment.
**
Matthew and I were on our way to the Philadelphia Airport on a rental car shuttle. I had just flown out from California the previous day to pick him up from his special school to bring him home for a long weekend. The shuttle driver asked which airline we were flying.
"U.S. Air" I replied.
"No" Matthew corrected me. “We always fly United."
“United didn’t have a flight for us, so it’s U.S. Air today,” I said.
"But it has to be the friendly skies of United," Matthew said anxiously, rocking and flapping his hands. I saw the driver look at us in his rear view mirror. He had such kind eyes and I thought I might cry.
"Just drop us at U.S. Air," I said, feeling desperate, "and I'll see if we can change our tickets."
I knew we could not change our tickets. The door opened and the driver helped us out.
"Be nice to your mama," he told Matthew.
**
"May I help you?" said a young agent at the U.S. Air counter. Then she saw Matthew hiding behind me, rocking and mumbling United is friendly. US Air is not.
"We're having a Rain Man moment," I said, thinking this was the best way to get to the point. She had no idea what I was talking about.
"He's autistic," I mumbled under my breath "and he has a thing about flying United."
The agent looked nervous, as did the folks in line behind us.
"It's a communication disorder. He's quirky. He gets stuck on things..." She nodded, glancing at Matthew sideways with slight smile. She got it.
"So...how can I help?"
"We'd just like to trade our tickets in for United tickets," I said, winking wildly.
The agent paused for a moment, and I could tell she was getting into the spirit of things.
“Don't worry, because U.S. Air and United are the same now...really. We just haven't changed the signs yet."
"That's right," chimed in a grandfatherly type in line behind us. "And the skies are still friendly." I felt a lump of gratitude rise in my throat.
Matthew looked suspicious, but went along with the story. I gave the U.S. Air agent a hug - it's amazing how many strangers you hug when you have a son with autism, and took off for the gate.
I thought back to the day I saw the movie. Little did I know what was ahead, and what joy and warmth this Rain Man moment would bring. Little did I know how rich I would feel in moments like these, when I would see beauty in people that might otherwise be invisible to me.
Related Articles:
Comments
