Love Story

As I sweated away on the cross-training machine at the gym this afternoon, I entertained myself, as ever, by reading. I wish I could say I read really deep stuff while working out, but the reality is I've been working my way through several unread back issues of Glamour. Once a week, I throw that week's issue of Newsweek in, just to show everyone I'm all about current events.

Still, Glamour is entertaining. Combine it with an iPod, and 40 minutes of cardio fly by.

This afternoon, I read a great love story, about an autistic couple. In seven years of teaching, I've worked with autistic children, and, more commonly, children with more "moderate" forms of autism, like Aspberger's. Dustin was obsessed with trains. Gavin would publicly masturbate in the classroom by rocking himself against a table (thank God I had an aide in there to help with him!). A current 2nd grade student gets upset if he doesn't come to music on Mondays--three days weekends really throw him off.

Having worked with autistic children, I like to think I'm somewhat informed--but I've never really given thought to what happens when these children grow up and become adults. How do they cope? Some go the group home route, and it works for them, I guess. Others, however, find some success in life.

They're Autistic--and They're in Love details the challenges faced by an autisict couple, Dave and Lindsey. They have seperate bedrooms, and they eat seperately, as Dave can't stand the sound of someone else chewing. Lindsay can get so lost in her own world that Dave has learned to whisper, "Psst..." when coming into a room so he won't scare her.

Two years [after meeting], Lindsey and Dave moved in together. It’s a big step for any couple, but for autistics, it can mean merging two rigid ways of life. Dave likes it cool; Lindsey likes it warm. Dave needs his mattress firm; Lindsey needs hers soft. These may sound like trifles, but what’s merely irritating to others may be, for an autistic, 20 fingernails on 20 blackboards. They’ve discussed every last detail, down to lightbulb preference.

Both have struggled throughout life to fit in, to make friends and have relationships. Both have seen their share of derision aimed at them. It's so lovely to me that they've found each other in this big, mad world.

Watching the kids I know who have autism, I am made aware that life is going to be very difficult for them sometimes. The smallest steps are reason for big celebration--like when a little kindergartner with autism finally started participating in my music lessons with the rest of the class, instead of standing there, looking bewildered.

These days, when Dave whispers as he approaches Lindsey, she’ll whisper back; it’s become a term of endearment. "Psst…," he’ll say after he walks in the door and sees Lindsey in the living room. Her face lights up when their eyes meet. “Psst!” she’ll respond, smiling. She knows that with Dave, she’s in a safe place. “I’m so lucky to have found him,” she says. “When I’m with him, I forget about my challenges.”

Isn't that what we all want?