Arizona Misadventure - part 1

We love our home in Virginia. As earthly things go, it is our most prized possession. In 2007 we learned just how much our home meant to us. Tom had lost his job and with no prospects had to become a traveler. Tom is a Registered Respiratory Therapist, he helps people breathe. Most people think that breathing treatments are the only thing he does. I know better. I worked in the medical field for 16 years and know exactly what he does – he saves lives. Ventilators, blood gases, intubation, working a code are among the most important aspects of his position. Keep in mind that the elderly are not the only ones who get sick or die. Tom deals with death on a daily basis and is very good at what he does.

Tom had no other choice but to become a traveler and his first assignment was to Arizona. He was there all winter and into spring and the company wanted him there full time. They had heard nothing but great things about his work and were trying hard to convince him to stay. He loved his job, but being apart from his family was very difficult. We had to decide if we should move across the country for Tom’s job. I also loved my jobs. I taught high school biology, college biology and college anatomy. I was well respected and had tenure. It’s important to know that I became a teacher because when I was laid off Tom supported me on my decision to go back to school. He helped me when I needed it. Didn’t he deserve the same consideration? I felt I owed him and wanted him to be happy, so I gave notice and we moved to Arizona.

Matt was not happy about this. He loved Virginia – mountains, lakes, railways, and green plants everywhere. We had discussed the move almost daily for months in advance and he prepared himself for the transition. We didn’t want to sell our home and asked Christopher to take care of it while we were away. We had a 5 year plan. Five years of full-time for both of us and we could pay down our bills enough to where we could survive on just one income if needed. We could save our home. Matt knew the move was basically to save our home and for this reason only, he would go.

He carried boxes and moved furniture. He packed and unpacked. He worked so hard and without complaint. We knew Matt loved adventure and we made every possible free moment an adventure. Whether we were trying to find the closest Wal-mart or trying a new restaurant or playing tourist didn’t matter – it was all an adventure to him. Unbeknown to me, he cried himself to sleep every night.

As a traveler, the company paid the rent. We had a beautiful new 2-story home with a pool. Matt loved the pool. I could get him to come and play in the pool without twisting his arm and it brought him some relief from his anguish. One month after we settled in, the travel company ran out of contracts. We had moved across the country only to be laid-off again. Our rent still had to be paid, but without a contract, we were now responsible for the tab. We were digging into our savings at an alarming rate as this was no cheap little apartment – it was a house . . .with a pool!

To make matters worse, I hated my new job. I was at odds immediately with the head of the department. We had completely different teaching strategies. He was pompous, I was stubborn. To keep this brief, let’s just say I convinced them to release me from my contract and went searching for another job. I did find another job, but it was much further from our new home – a long, 2 hour drive. We decided we would have to look for a place closer and cheaper.

In between struggling with finances and job searches and the stress of living away from our other kids and family, we didn’t fully see how deep Matt’s anguish was. Not until one night when we were house hunting. We had driven through the terrible Phoenix traffic for 2 hours. We had been searching for a new place for weeks, something close to the school I would be working at. We came across a beautiful adobe-style western home with a huge floor plan. Tom was excited – it was gorgeous. We were discussing if we could even afford such a place and even considered selling our Virginia home.

Matt could take it no longer and burst into tears. Why would we stay in Arizona? There were no green trees or green grass or green mountains? Why would we choose to stay in Arizona and give up on Virginia? How could we? Did we not know that he cried every single night? His sobs and his anger together came pouring out. He was not a child, he was a man and he let us have it, both barrels, right between the eyes! We were silent. After a few moments, I looked at Tom, “He’s right . . .” I said softly, guiltily. Tom remained quiet, contemplating the situation. He then looked at me, “What were we thinking?” He stopped the jeep, turned and looked at Matt. “You’re right, Matt. I will fix this”.

Matt said very little as we drove home. Tom and I were conversing in short intervals, mostly about how to get home to Virginia. Matt’s tears and blatant truths tore at our heart. Neither of us can stand hearing him in pain and Tom was completely fired up by the time we arrived home. He went straight for the phone and called several hospitals he had worked at part-time in Virginia and left messages on their answering machines. He was authoritative, a man-with-a-mission. I had never quite seen him so determined.

To our surprise Tom got a phone call the next morning from one of the hospitals close to home and offered a job. Oh my God! The timing was just right; I had not signed my new contract, Tom was unemployed, and we had just enough money left in our savings to rent the U-haul home. Do we? Should we? Our Arizona adventure had been a bust – more like a serious misadventure and to go home we would risk it all.

Neither of us could wait to tell Matt. We went to his room and sat down on his bed. He rolled over and peered at us from beneath his pillow. “Matt, we’re moving back to Virginia.” Matt threw the pillow off his face and examined our expressions. Were we for real? “Matt, daddy got a job in Virginia, we’re going home!” It sank in. You could see the tears well up in his eyes and a smile immediately appeared on his face.

Sometimes it is not the autistic person who needs to learn. Sometimes it is the autistic person who needs to teach. And a little child shall lead them . . .home.