Last Friday morning Nikhil was off of school for the holiday weekend and I asked him if he wanted to go swimming.
Oh my, did he!! Right Now!!
Bert came along with us, but not Ernie.
Four nearby pools were open ... according to Google.
But when the Garland pool turned out to be closed AND the Mesquite pool was too ... and he saw the water slides at both ... and we didn't get out of car 🚗 at either ...
Well he used at least 20 phrases to express his exasperation ...
"Out of car",
"Go swimming, please",
"Take a bath, please",
"Unbuckle seat belt, please",
"I want pool, please"
... and I kept driving ...
Well, the impatient young man opened the sliding back door beside him
... yes, WHILE we were traveling down Belt Line Road at 45 MPH!!!
In a panic I looked back to be sure his seatbelt was still on while roaring at him,
"Close that door, NOW!!!"
It was. And he did.
But not before I watched him
hurl Bert
out of the still open door
... and saw Bert bounce off the side of the car beside us 😱😱😱
I quickly pulled into a gas station parking lot to ... maybe not so wisely ... give a very loud lecture about car safety ... to an extremely sound sensitive kid.
Turns out,
"I DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR WHILE THE CAR IS MOVING!!"
is about one phrase longer than he can repeat ... at least while I'm yelling at him.
He was mad at me ... and I was mad at him.
And we were both afraid the other person didn't understand something very, very important.
And then two tears rolled down his cheek 😢 ... and he took three deep breaths,
And he looked me in the eyes and said,
"I sorry daddy".
Suddenly most of my fear and anger melted away.
Most.
Not all, but most of it.
It's been over two years since he's had a meltdown severe enough that he needed a timeout. Maybe longer.
And that's what he used to say during a timeout, as he tried to negotiate his freedom.
"I sorry daddy".
And I would tell him to breathe first and stop
screaming and fighting,
kicking and hitting,
spitting and slamming the door ...
Whatever the acting out behavior might be.
Sorry wasn't enough.
Calming down and changing behavior was necessary too.
On this occasion ... In his own way ... he seemed not only to be calming himself down ... but me too ... kind of like I used to do with him.
Wow. I mean wow. For any kid, right?
But a fairly nonverbal autistic kid??
Wow. Just. Wow.
No, that peaceful moment didn't last long.
He's nine after all. And I had promised him a pool.
And I was not delivering. But now he had another phrase to add to the others ...
"Bert, where are you?"
I've heard that phrase now about 490 times in the last 7 days:
"Bert, where are you?"
I've had two basic answers, with many variations:
"He's gone. You threw him out of the car." Or,
"He's in a ditch somewhere along Beltline Road."
Like I said, most of the anger had melted away. But not all. And there is a very important lesson about car safety I really want him to learn.
Nevertheless,
At least one time every day,
In each of the last seven days,
In the midst of the 70 times he asked that same persistent question ...
He would also ask to go out to the car ... to open the garage door ...
And go out to the driveway ... just to check and see ... maybe this time Bert would be out there somewhere.
Sometimes he'd just peek through the side window and that was enough. Sometimes he circled the whole car. Sometimes he peeked in the back window too or checked under the tire.
I did say every day, right?
Every.
Day.
And yesterday, after our quick trip out to the car, I put a new Bert in our Amazon shopping cart. But I wasn't yet ready to check out. Not quite yet.
And then today ... it was his most thorough search yet.
And when I saw him ... almost fall on his knees ... looking carefully underneath the car ... the one last place he hadn't yet checked ... I realized ... the math ... was adding up ... to a poignant time for forgiveness.
I told him to put his socks and shoes and headphones 🎧 on and we'd go to Walmart and get Bert. In seconds he was ready. In seconds.
It took me a little longer.
The whole trip there and into the store he was almost singing,
"Where are you Bert?"
Tomorrow we may come up with a melody to go along with it. But it didn't quite have a melody yet today.
I lost track of him as I scoured the toy aisles looking for any Sesame Street toys, let alone Bert. I had seen the plush toys at many other stores. But, with a sinking heart I realized ... never this one.
He stayed in the main aisle, choosing not to join me in the skinnier, cramped, narrow aisles. But he'd peek around the corner, keeping an eye on me. On my fourth lap I was ready to give up. Maybe ask for help.
As I headed toward the main aisle to find Nikhil ... I saw him coming toward me down the narrow aisle ,,,
Carrying a huge basketball 🏀 in one hand
... and an even bigger smile on his face.
Huge smile.
I was excited. Not only was this a first ... he's picked something new to buy. Not George. Not Mario. Not Bert. But a ball. An ordinary ball.
Plus, I thought, maybe he'll forget about Bert ... at least until we get out of the store.
And that's when I saw WHY he was carrying such a HUGE ball 🏀 in one hand.
And had such a huge grin.
Because ... in the other hand ... was a brand new BERT!!!
I made another lap through the toy aisles trying to figure out where he had found Bert.
I thought it couldn't hurt to have a backup available. He has two Ernies, two Elmos, and three Grovers. Two Berts might come in handy too.
But I never saw another Sesame Street toy.
So, I asked for help and a nice young cashier made another lap through the toy aisles with me.
Only Nikhil ever found a Sesame Street toy ...
And it happened to be ...
Bert.
So Nikhil taught me another spin on that old parable ...
"The kingdom of heaven is like ... an autistic boy ... who loses Bert ...
And searches high and low ... and asks 70 times 7 for forgiveness ...
And smiles a HUGE 🤗 smile of great joy ...
When he finds not just one ... but BOTH.
Bert. And.
Forgiveness.
Oh my, how well this not so little child seems to lead me.
Thanks be to God!!