The Reality of Grief and Autism
For “Real” eyes only…
My father-in-law (one of my dearest friends) is slipping in and out of consciousness and is confused, gasping for air, has swollen feet, and the like. All signs that Heaven is beckoning him home, soon. I wish I could say that I was there for him, but the reality of having a severely special needs child prevents this from being true.
Inside, I’m twisted like a pretzel. Part of me just wants to jump in the car, hit the gas, and let the non-adulting chips fall where they may. The other part reminds me of not needing neglect charges and the long-term consequences of losing our house (honestly, we’re really close).
I feel sick inside, knowing that my wife should be by his side, but realizing that he and I are incredibly close and, therefore, I feel the urge to be there with him, coupled with the duty to watch our son so my wife can be by her “daddy’s” side.
I hate this! I’m torn between being a good husband or being a good son. I feel like rolling the dice, packing the boy up, and just making a b-line straight for the plains. (Not as easy as you might think though, Cullen, 200 pounds, is so severe that he attempts to drive us off the road or kick the windows out when we don’t go where he wants to go).
Although I’ve worked with a lot of grief in my career, I find the freshness of this incredible, almost unbearable.
Sorry, I will leave no questions or “to do’s” at the end of this blog. It’s just raw. Real. Today is about me, my wife, our dad, and God.
We would appreciate your prayers and thoughts….
Jeff