It ain’t Jake’s fault, nor Ben’s, but a life with severe autism in the family has meant, instead of having one of those “special” twin-relationships, they never got to have much of a sibling relationship at all. As they grew, their trajectories split, ever wider and deeper. Their activities, with most of Ben’s time outside the house engaged in various types of therapies, had little overlap. Their main time “together” was Jake hanging out in waiting rooms, sometimes playing with other siblings stuck in special needs family life.
Then before they turned 13, Ben moved out, to a residential school in Wisconsin. Now consider that age. Just as the boys were hitting (physiologically) puberty, Jake disappeared from Ben’s daily life. He saw Jake from time to time, but our weekly visits to Oconomowoc were on weekends, usually Saturdays — social prime time for guys Jake’s age.
But, Ben has never had a moment’s doubt about Jake and their relationship. Ask him who his family is, and he’ll tell you without hesitation, “Mommy Daddy Jakey.” “And Jake is your…” “Brother.” (Pronounced “bruhver.”)
And they aren’t just words to him.
Ben’s favorite activity, next to inhaling cookies and hotdogs and ice cream (only vanilla) and fries and cupcakes (only vanilla) and cheeseburgers and “a bagel with butter,” is long car rides. Specifically, he loves to “drive fast” on the highway, as opposed to the alternative, not favored but still enjoyed — a “drive in the country.”
Participants allowed on Ben’s drives are an EXTREMELY select group. If anybody tries to sit up front, in the passenger seat usually occupied by his red box of books, he lets it be known, loudly and animatedly, that they are NOT welcome in our car. It doesn’t matter who it might be, including otherwise-favorite people. Mom sits next to him, I drive, and NOBODY belongs in that seat next to me.
Nobody, that is, except Jake. And not only is he allowed. Jake is welcomed. With a big smile.
Even so, this is autism, so it is critical that we prepare Ben with a social story. It lets him know what to expect, that this visit will be different from usual, but with all the important components still there, and with the big added bonus of a visit with Jake, who he hadn’t seen since last September, due to the pandemic. Without the visual and cognitive preparation provided by the social story, Jake would be a big surprise, if not a shock, and Ben wouldn’t know what’s to come, a big problem for him. A social story spells it out, step by step.
A half hour before the visit, we emailed the social story to his house, for Ben to read:
~~~
Brother Jake
Today, Jake is coming for a visit.
Mommy, Daddy, Benny and Jakey will go for a drive in the car.
Dad and Jake will sit in the front seat.
Mom and Ben will sit in the back seat.
We will eat lunch.
We will go to the apartment for dessert.
Ben will say goodbye to Mom and Jake at the apartment.
Daddy and Ben will drive fast, and eat cookies.
~~~
It worked.
Ben emerged from his house looking to the passenger seat and at Jake sitting in it.
And he beamed. And he was smiling and laughing and singing for the entire visit.
In fact, Ben remained almost giddy on the second half of the visit, when it was just us, Daddy and Benny, “driving fast” and listening to his choice of music (in this case, Sam Bush and David Grisman’s Hold On We’re Strumming). I think it was a perfect combination of the novel + the familiar — seeing Jake, but then returning to a “normal” visit to wrap up.
Oh, and Jake enjoyed it too! These two pics taken at the apartment by Karen (Jake is on the right) make that pretty obvious. Grins all around. And nobody’s were wider than Mom’s and Dad’s.
