OK, so everyone has seen the movie "Rain Man", right? The one where Tom Cruise plays the cocky, money-obsessed young man who, upon the death of his father, discovers that he has an autistic brother nearly twice his age who's been left the bulk of the inheritance (~$3 million)? Yeah, I knew you did. Great movie.
Most of the movie's best scenes involve how Tom Cruise's character, Charlie, deals with the idiosyncracies involved with having autism. His brother Raymond, played brilliantly by Dustin Hoffman, MUST adhere to the routines he's established for his daily life or else the wheels just come completely off his wagon. He has times that he's supposed to eat, watch certain shows on TV, go to bed, take a shower, and so on. Most of us like to be home in time to watch our favorite shows, but I would wager there are very few of us who would throw a screaming tantrum in the middle of a crowded street due to missing an episode of "Gray's Anatomy". But if Raymond doesn't get to a TV in time to watch "The People's Court", that's exactly what happens.
My parents are NOT autistic. Honest they're not. But sometimes, dealing with them is like dealing with a scaled-down version of Raymond. Mom's got her routine set up, and she doesn't like anyone dicking with it for any reason. Some people would be nice and say she's got a passive-aggressive style ("Are you sure you wouldn't rather roast the chicken breast-down instead of breast-up?"), but my siblings have the opinion that there's no reason to be nice when we all come equipped with a buttload of sarcasm and biting wit. So a few years ago, my eldest sister suddenly started saying, "I'm definitely not wearing my underwear" when Mom would get a little TOO nervous when her routine was disturbed....
Since Mom's had shingles, I've been spending a lot of time up there to help her out. But even though she's now much better (yay!), I've realized that she STILL has issues she needs help with, and those aren't going away. So I've decided to spend every Wednesday at her place: I take her grocery shopping (the woman can barely lift a half-gallon of OJ, much less tote around gallon jugs of milk and iced tea), I vacuum, I iron, I drive her wherever she needs to go and do whatever she needs doing. I don't mind it, and it makes life tons easier for her. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that every once in a while I want to slam on the brakes and ask her what difference does it make where you buy underwear.
Let's take something simple: driving them to a doctor's appointment. Now, my mom can drive (thankfully, my dad doesn't any more), but it's just easier and simpler for me to do it when I'm there. It also keeps me from killing her when she pokes along at 28 in a 45 mph zone or won't make a left-hand turn unless she has a traffic light to hold back all the other cars. Anyway -- most of the time, I don't know where I'm going when she asks me to drive her somewhere, but some things get to be repeat destinations. So the trips to the doctor's office can sound a lot like this:
"So, Mom -- where are we headed today?"
"To the podiatrist -- his office is over on Broadview. Go down Stumph Road to Pleasant Valley."
"But Mom...wouldn't just going straight down Snow Road to Broadview be faster? And there's no construction that way, either."
"No....Stumph Road to Pleasant Valley is the way we go."
"OK...I get that...but why? Because if you go that way, not only do you go south to just come back up north on Broadview, but traffic is hell that way and the torn up road on Stumph might eat your car. Just going straight out Snow Road and THEN going south on Broadview would skip all that crap."
"But we don't go that way. We take Stumph Road. That's the way we like to go. It's just better."
"Why?"
"Because."
"What difference does it make? Other than Snow to Broadview is faster, of course...."
"Well, because I don't GO that way."
"WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE WHERE YOU BUY UNDERWEAR?!"
Or...grocery shopping. Yeah, that's a good one....
"Mom, how 'bout I grab Dad's newspapers and meet you over in the produce section?"
"No! I don't get the newspapers until last."
"But...why? If I just squirt through this little aisle here, I can grab 'em right away and save you trying to maneuver that scooter-thingy through a tiny aisle."
"Because....I get them later. I don't get them at the middle of my shopping trip."
"WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE WHERE YOU BUY UNDERWEAR?!"
And so it goes. There are a dozen instances of my mother pointing out that she's definitely not wearing her underwear. But I love her anyway -- although I wonder if I'll be doing the same thing to my kids someday....
