Arizona misadventure - part 2

We were excited to be going back home to Virginia. The job offer required we be back in 1 week and that meant re-packing the house, renting the truck, loading the truck and various odds and ends plus a 4 day drive home - all within 7 days. With each task Matt was a tremendous help. He went with me at 3am each morning to get boxes from the local Wal-mart before they were crushed. He packed boxes, taped boxes, stacked boxes and lifted heavy items, all with a smile on his face. Tom had been offered a few evenings of per diem shifts and went in to work each afternoon, leaving Matt and I to take care of business. I really found out what a strong young man he was. I called and turned down my job offer and contacted the college back home. They would be happy to see me back, but classes had already begun and the soonest I could get work would be the next summer. We would be strapped for cash all winter – but we would be home.

We picked up the moving truck early one morning and began loading almost immediately. We were trying to pack in a hurry and our packing was not as precise as the packing to move to Arizona. We kept shifting things around and working out dimensions. Tom was on the edge of the truck adjusting boxes when he lost his grip and fell. At the last moment he caught himself, but still landed hard and fell to the ground. He broke his ankle. It started swelling immediately. We had no insurance, and needed both of us to drive. There was no other choice but to bandage as best we could and keep focused on our time. Matt was really needed now. Tom could not walk, could not carry, and he was miserable with pain. Matt rose to the occasion. He carried and loaded the truck, carefully arranging each item to fit. He helped clean the house so we could have the deposit back, and took care of his daddy by bringing him drinks and food and ibuprofen.

We left on time, Tom driving the truck with his ankle wrapped tight, and me driving the jeep with 2 dogs. Matt rode almost exclusively with Tom. He helped him as best he could and gave him the driving directions for home by heart.

Unfortunately, when we arrived home we found that the job offer had been rescinded by upper management and thus we were both unemployed, depleted financially, both injured (I strained my back lifting), and overwhelmed and stressed, but we were home. Tom did get a full-time job (and after a year and a half, was laid-off again). I used our retirement to make the bills until a class opened for me to teach again. And we survived. Matt used his own money to help with groceries and pay bills, and Christopher pitched in to help us financially as well.

What I learned on our Arizona misadventure was this: Matt is not a child anymore. You would think I would be aware of this, what with the thick beard and deep voice and all, but alas, I was guilty of thinking of him as my baby. Throughout our misadventures I watched this young man rise to occasion and take on overwhelming emotional stress, physically hard labor, and a work schedule that any blue-collar worker would admire. He was generous and caring and could let us have it verbally when the occasion called for it.

Sometimes his body language, sometimes his speech, gives him away as someone . . .well, different. But anyone would be hard pressed to actually think of him as autistic. I learned that to see Matt differently. I don’t see an autistic young man anymore, just a fine, generous, helpful, young man - a young man who just happens to be autistic.