Sunday, February 26, 2012

American Angst and Ardor (2.26.2012)

Last night, my son Sam and I went to see American Idiot at The Orpheum Theatre. It was an incredible show. Much like the reviews indicated, more like attending a concert than a play. The music was so terrific I could hardly keep from bouncing in my seat. Sam loved it. He especially liked the female dancers in the sequined dresses. They were all legs and cleavage and sparkle. On the way home he said, "I need to date someone." I said, "You and me both." I didn't mean to minimize his 21-year-old combination of angst and ardor, but when he says stuff like that, it breaks my heart. What do I do? What do I say? How do I find someone for my lovely, loving son who will always live in a group home? I don't discount it at all. I know it is possible. I believe that. I just don't know how to make it happen. To ensure that he gets what he wants in this life.
The thing is, I am so used to fixing things for him and making it better. I have always been his translator in the world - both literally and figuratively. And this is one of those things that I can't fix. Or translate. Maybe that's what every parent faces in some form or another. Granted, this one is a little more complicated, but it is still wanting something so much for your child -- something they want too -- that you just can't pull off. A skinned knee seems so much easier.

So after we got home, we got settled in. I let Sam stay up until midnight to play Nintendo and I went to bed. I fell asleep with the television on and around midnight, I woke up to find Sam looking for the remote to turn off the TV in my room. He is such a sweet and thoughtful young man -- so remarkably different than any diagnosis of "autistic spectrum" might indicate. He has heart and love enough to take care of me and his Dad, and curiosity large enough to care about everyone around him -- the people he works with and the people he lives with in his group home. If ever there was a young man who deserves to date someone, this is the guy. And I suppose, if ever there was a Mom crazy enough to figure out a way to mess with Cupid's arrow on Sam's behalf, that Mom is me.              

1 comment:

  1. Go for it Denine. Maybe the summer camp style mixers and dances. He's not the only one wanting a main squeeze.