This was Julian in complete repose.  Hard for most of us to comprehend this being comforting and relaxing, three things going at once.  It sounded like confusion to me, but for Julian it was a slice of  nirvana.  I stood just inside the doorway looking at my son, he was unaware of my presence, and thought of the irony.  Here was this person who, like most with autism, tend to focus intently on one thing, awash in the (obvious) apparent joy of multiple audio stimuli.

After staring awhile longer I had to engage him, this seemed like noise to me.  I asked if he wanted me to turn down, or off, one of the devices.  He was quick to decline the offer.  He informed me that he was listening to all three and could hear each one clearly.  It was all just the way he liked it, remember it’s about Julian not me or the outside world.  I realized he was really happy in the moment and excused myself from his room.

I don’t know that there is a scientific explanation for this, maybe it hasn’t even been considered by researchers.  I suspect, there is probably something exceptional about his ability to absorb different streams of information at one time, provided they are in areas that are of interest to him. 

This runs counter to conventional thought and scholarship about autism.  Science has determined that the very reason some people with autism excel at one thing is because their brains are wired to prevent reception and processing of multiple streams of information, simultaneously.

However, as all of us connected to the world of autism know, if you’ve met one person with autism…you’ve met one person with autism.  So, for Julian, this is his way of escaping and relaxing.  Considering all that he deals with on a daily basis as he faces a world that is still finding its way in understanding persons with autism, I think it’s just fine. 

I made my way downstairs to join Martina in the den, where she was reading.  We could hear the “interesting” symphony coming from Julian’s room.  She peered over the top of her book at me, I knew what she was wondering.

I smiled, shrugged my shoulders and assured her, “He’s fine, just chillin, Julian style.”

Allow me to refresh your memory. This time last year he was enrolled  in the WELL program but, at best, was a very passive participant.  You’ll recall that he was still dealing with the effects of his breakdown. Barely verbal with a slow and deliberate gait, he just wasn’t engaging in anything. No drawing, no Disney movies, he’d even lost his desire to eat and would eventually lose twenty pounds off his slim frame.  Our Julian had all but disappeared, literally and figuratively.

So it’s understandable that WELL executive director Tiffane Land wasn’t sure what to expect when he began this year’s program back in early July.  What followed was a delight for Ms. Land, Julian and our family.  Each day when I picked him up she had something wonderful to say about Julian and how he was so enthusiastic and involved in the program’s myriad activities.

There was the day they visited a horse farm. Julian rode the horse, walked with it, fed it and cleaned it’s stall. When they would have grocery shopping day, for the weekly meal they planned and prepared, he got to the point that she could give him his list of items (along with a debit card) and he would finish before everyone, without any assistance. Whether it was compost day or volunteering at the food bank she always came back with glowing reports about Julian.

Even in his interaction with his fellow program participants he was different. When the yoga instructor paid her weekly visit Julian, being the only returning student in the program, took a small leadership role as he showed the others how to perform certain exercises. Julian was beginning to display capabilities that we hadn’t seen before.

One field trip that was of special meaning to Julian was the one to the Piedmont Wildlife Center, an animal preserve.  If you know anything about him then you’re aware that his top two passions are animals and Disney.  This day was nearly like visiting utopia for Julian. 

Ms. Land told me that Julian had this look of pure joy on his face the entire day.  I’ve seen that look, we were visiting Disney World at the time. The campers were allowed to help with the care of some of the animals. Ms. Land said Julian listened intently and took great care in his assignments. He even was smiling as he cleaned up chicken poop!

Martina and I are thankful to Ms. Land for her belief in Julian and desire to have him involved, no matter what level his engagement.  Her program, www.wellprogram.webs.com , has been a huge boost for Julian and (I’m sure) the other young people enrolled. If anyone reading this wants to assist her efforts and the amazing work she does please visit her organization’s (Autism Support and Advocacy Center) website at www.ausupportandadvocacy.com to learn more.

The six-week camp culminated with the program we attended , which featured yoga and martial arts performances, a group poetry recital and individual project presentations. Martina was beaming as she watched our son.  Jared, I hope I don’t imperil his cool status, was clearly happy and proud as he watched his big brother.  Afterwards we thanked Ms. Land for all the program had done for Julian.  She quickly reversed the dialogue and thanked us, for allowing her the opportunity to be part of Julian’s life.

Yes, Julian is doing WELL.

While everyone congratulated the young man and participated in the joy of the occasion I watched Julian to gage his reaction to this event.  Julian will enter eleventh grade this fall while the evening’s honoree is headed to a prestigious university on an academic scholarship.  Julian has known the college bound lad his entire life. There is a picture of the two of them, as toddlers, enjoying  juice boxes and a turn on a swing, posted on our friend’s refrigerator.  

I just didn’t want Julian to feel he was not doing well in comparison to our friends’ son.  When they saw each other Julian gave him a handshake and a hug while congratulating him.  May I be allowed a sidebar here?  To see Julian continue to evolved like this and interact with people, considering where he was just twelve months ago is so heartwarming. 

Following their exchange I “checked in” with Julian.

    “What do you think of this buddy?”

    “It’s nice.”

    “Anything you want to talk about?”

    “Uh…no sir. Well, how am I doing Dad?”

    “Great and we’re so proud of you!”

    “Thanks, Dad!”

Julian was good.  He just needed to know that, in our judgement, he was doing well.  He did not dwell on this.  Shortly after our discussion he was off to find materials to draw with, remember he finds such comfort and pleasure in drawing his animals and Disney characters.

As the evening wore on there was music and dancing inside while Julian settled at a table on the terrace of the restaurant with his pen and papers. A large glass window allowed me to stand at the bar talking with friends while keeping an eye on Julian who was just a few feet away on the other side of the glass.

Throughout the evening a number of the pre adolescents, hopped up on cake, were running around the restaurant and chasing each other out on the terrace.  They incurred the benign wrath of one of our friend’s father who constantly warned them that they’d better slow down ”or else”.   He and I were chatting at one point, later in the night, when I noticed his gaze had become fixed on a point behind me.  With my back to the glass wall I couldn’t share his view of the terrace. 

“That’s amazing.”  He said with an approving smile.   I turned and saw Julian, seated at a table drawing while surrounded by all those kids.  Some were standing just behind him watching every stroke of his pen while a couple of others had paper and pen of their own and were copying what they saw him doing.  They were peppering him with questions about the animals he was drawing and he was giving them a tutorial on the animal kingdom.

“No one else in here could get those kids to settle down.”

“That’s Julian.”  I replied.

“You’ve got a special boy there.  He’s going to do something in this world.”

“Yes sir, I know. ”

That night as we celebrated the accomplishments of another young man Julian, in his own quiet way, reminded us that there is more than one way to measure success.

Boy, he keeps doing that!  Teaching me about life.

Flexibility was the first word that came to mind. I recalled that Julian’s autism forced me to recalibrate my view of, what most would consider to be, the traditional father-son dynamic. I had to accept that it was unlikely he and I would recreate a Norman Rockwell inspired image of the father teaching the son the nuances of throwing a curve ball and a slider.  I had to come to a place of understanding that Julian was not going to grow up to be a man of(traditional) power, astride the worlds of business and philanthropy like a colossus, as I originally expected of any son of mine.  Bottom line, Julian was going to show us the pathway of his life’s journey.

I shared with Andrew that his son will provide their family with unforseen moments of joy that will leave  indelible impressions.  He will take them places they never expected to venture.  Julian has opened up the world of animals and Disney to a degree that I never would’ve imagined.   His gifts as an artist have truly moved me.  He and I visited a local zoo recently and watching the pure delight he took in looking at the animals reminded me that there are myriad ways to experience happiness. 

I also had to be very honest with Andrew.  There will be very trying times.  There have been occasions where I’ve gotten quite upset with Julian.  Despite being well aware of the fact, I’ve had to remind myself that Julian’s brain functions differently and he doesn’t “see” things the way most of us do.  Yes, having a child with autism can be frustrating at times, for even the most patient parent.  It’s human nature.

There are times Julian does things (he shouldn’t) that have little to do with autism and everything to do with being a kid, or worse, a teenager!  We’ve found that letting him know he has to meet the same standard of respectful behavior and conduct, as his brother, has been a plus in his development. There will be those larger issues that arise that you simply have to find the courage to battle.  We’ve learned that with Julian’s educational and social challenges.

I suggested to Andrew one thing to guard against is being overly punitive with the other son.  I’ve been guilty of this in the past with Jared.  Because “he should know better” sometimes I’ve been especially hard on him, in stark contrast to dealing with Julian on the same issue.  What all of us, parents of siblings of children with autism, should be aware of is that it can be very difficult for those children who are growing up with a brother or sister who demands such special attention and understanding. 

What I am hopeful of more than anything else is that Andrew came away from our conversation feeling hopeful and excited about the voyage he and his family have embarked upon.  Because it is a wonder, watching the child with autism make an imprint on all others around them.  And watching the other child develop and gain a greater appreciation for all persons and things that are “different” in our world.

At the end of our visit Andrew’s face seemed a bit more relaxed and calm.  Maybe being able to share thoughts with someone who’s a bit farther along down this road of autism and parenting helped.  There was one final thought I wanted to leave with him.  Through all of this you will emerge a better man and father, I certainly hope that I have.  That daily improvement never stops, Julian makes sure of that. 

Afterall, isn’t trying to be better every day one of the real keys to fatherhood.

It shouldn’t have surprised me, after all he is a seventeen year old boy.  By nature, most are consumed with thoughts of the fairer, and at that age far smarter, sex. Though I’ve long since had “the talk” with him, and periodically inquire about his interest in girls, it just isn’t something that comes up much. I spend a lot of time with my two sons and we talk a lot.  Jared, who’s fifteen, constantly peppers me with queries about, among other things,  girls. Though Julian doesn’t offer much on this topic, I now realize he’s absorbing everything.

Girls do notice him.  Recently, during a visit to a shopping mall, we were in a clothing store that’s frequented by teenagers. Martina wanted to pick up a few things for the boys.  I assumed my normal position in these scenarios.  Muted support, nodding approval when Martina signaled and pretending to understand Jared’s “curious” fashion choices.  While Julian was educating me on the Set animal(Egyptian mythology) and happily going on about its mysteries, a few racks over a young lady was staring at him, he had no clue.

She worked her way over to the rack nearest us and a made a point of smiling and saying hello, giving Julian one of those very friendly looks. He smiled and waved, as he does with everyone, and quickly returned to Egyptian mythology. I found the irony both touching and humorous. Despite standing right next to him she still would have to travel quite a distance to reach Julian’s world.

I don’t think she ever noticed the animal figure clutched in his hand.  She just saw a cute boy.  After she walked away I asked him if he realized she was flirting with him. Of course I knew the answer.  Persons with autism rarely are able to pick up on social language and cues. He just thought she was being polite.

So when he presented me with the question about his future with girls you can understand my surprise.  However, this did open the door for dialogue.

“Would you like to have one?”

“Maybe, some day.”

“What kind of girl would she be?”

“Someone who likes my interests?”

In a very deliberate manner he used his fingers to denote each one.

“Disney, animals, cryptozoology, animated movies and R&B music.”

“I’m sure when the time is right you’ll meet her.”

“Okay, thanks Dad.”

At that moment I didn’t know whether to cry or smile. I want so much for Julian to experience the full breadth of life and, if possible,  to know the kind of love his mom and I share. It will take a very special person to connect with him, it will not be easy.  Not impossible, just not easy. The good thing is that we have plenty of time to help him navigate that course. Remember, he’s just seventeen and in no hurry.  And he does already know love, of family.  He fully realizes Martina, Jared and I value him and would do anything for him.

Martina and I have now begun planning for ways to place him in safe social settings where he can interact with girls of his age and understanding.  His favorite musical artists are, in no certain order; Alicia Keyes, The Temptations, Jill Scott, Al Green and Earth, Wind & Fire. Whomever the young lady is(that will be interested in Julian) she must be open to his love of music, animals, animated films and Disney.

Because, as EW&F might put it, that’s the way of Julian’s world.

Julian and I were waiting outside another retail store, Martina and Jared were inside, enjoying the soothing spring afternoon weather. I was seated on a bench, he stood just in front of me. By the time the aforementioned woman was upon us Julian greeted her with a hello and that heart melting  ear to ear smile that I’ve come to love so much. He then proudly held up the bag and began to explain which character came from which Disney animated movie.

At this point the transformation was complete in the woman, who’d paused her shopping day for a brief chat with Julian. She was now beaming and listening intently.  From the earlier distance all she saw was a, physically typical and attractive, seventeen year old boy holding, and transfixed by, a toy animal and a small child’s gift bag. To her initial gaze, I imagine, the scene appeared “off”, hence the noticeable immediate facial reaction.

It only took a matter of seconds for her to recognize the genuine joy that those items brought Julian and the alacrity with which he was willing to share information about Disney and animals. As their brief visit ended she told Julian that her favorite Disney animated film was Snow White. He then told her, that one fell under the category of “Classics”, whereas his favorite, “The Lion King” is under the heading of “Renaissance”. Who knew?! Julian did. As she walked away she paused, turned and with complete sincerity said, “Julian, it was REALLY nice to meet you.”

 That encounter underscores something Martina and I have come to terms with as Julian’s parents.  Allowing him to have the things that bring him comfort and joy whenever he wants them, no matter the circumstance or setting. There was a time, as he moved into his teenage years, that we restricted where and when he could carry toys and other items we deemed age inappropriate. We did not want people “giving him those looks” or making fun of him in public.  Frankly, there were moments when it could be a little embarrassing. 

Well, we were wrong. These things, toy animals and all things Disney, make Julian happy. They represent the center of his universe, not ours, “his”. Given all that he has dealt with in his seventeen years he deserves the measure of comfort these items bring him.

The day we got the bag Jared opted to remain in the car, listening to his iPod, while we went into the toy store. Upon our return an excited Julian showed Jared the bag. Jared’s response? “What’s in it?”  It was empty. Julian’s unbridled glee was in simply having the bag with some of his most cherished characters featured on the outside.  Realizing this, Jared smiled at his brother and said “That’s cool Julian.”  That’s all the validation Julian needed to hear. He then became lost in a delightful world all his own making.

Julian now carries that bag everywhere, even at home. It’s as if he thinks it has some magical powers to make him feel better, maybe it does. When he’s eating dinner, the bag is placed on the floor near him. When we have family movie time, the bag is there. When we’re going out, the bag is in one hand and a toy animal or Disney figure in the other. 

So when we’re out and people give us “those looks” we simply respond with smiles.  It rarely takes long, after seeing Julian, for them to “get it”.  Truth is, it really wouldn’t matter if they did or not. To paraphrase Jared, if it’s cool with Julian it’s cool with us.

That’s how we roll.

Pleasantly surprised, I quickly started with the questions.  What about this book piqued his interest?  What could he tell me about the leopard on the cover?  How were leopards different from cheetahs?  Look the same to me. He responded in rapid fire fashion, with certainty and strong voice.  Cheetahs have longer legs, smaller heads and are much faster than leopards.  In fact they are the world’s swiftest land animals, reaching speeds of up to 75 miles per hour . They can go from 0 to 64 miles per hour in three seconds.  Thanks for the tutorial son.

Over the last few weeks we’ve watched as his old interests resurfaced.  Animal Planet, Disney movies and mythological creatures.  He even has begun drawing again!  The interesting thing is that after a dormant period of nearly eight months he seems to have retained his artistic ability and , nearly encyclopedic, knowledge of animals.

Recently I asked him to draw a detailed scene of the Serengeti, one of his favorite places on earth.  I fully expected there to be a bit of hesitancy.  After all, he hadn’t held a pen to draw since mid-summer.  At the very least I anticipated he would need to see a picture to jog his memory.  No reminders or assistance were necessary.

The drawing flowed out of him like he had been doing it every day without pause.  The detail was amazing. Watching him work from memory with such care and precision made me think of  Stephen Wiltshire, the young man who drew an intricate picture, eighteen feet wide, of the New York city skyline after viewing it one time during a twenty-minute helicopter ride.

This underscores, what the International Society of Autism Research has determined is “the greater long-term retention of memory for details” that some people with autism posses.  Julian is living proof.  Despite that sustained period of detachment he is quick to recall specifics about his areas of interest.  It’s as if this storehouse of information has been slumbering inside him all this time, waiting for Julian to allow it to come out of hibernation.

What triggered this re-engagement with the external world?  I have no idea. Maybe his therapist will help shed some light on that, but the most important thing is that our son is laughing, drawing and talking again.  All is not perfect, we continue to deal with other challenges, some new, that he faces.  Seeing those beautiful eyes sparkle with curiosity and a new-found sense of happiness is enough to fortify Martina and me as this special journey continues with our wondrous son.

He’s even back on the computer, daily, searching for information on animals and he wants to share.  “Mom, Dad come look at this!” has become a regular excited refrain in our house.

Few things have ever sounded better to me.

Martina and I, being the cool(wink-wink) adults we are, were asked to be chaperons for the party.  I sat in a dark corner, which is where all chaperons live at such affairs, with the birthday boy’s father, my friend Reggie.  My gaze was back and forth; between Jared’s moment of social glory and Julian’s distance, socially and physically, from the reveling teenagers.

While hip-hop music was blaring from the sound system all I could hear, as I looked at my eldest son, was that 1970′s searing paean to teenage awkwardness, “At Seventeen” by Janis Ian. There he stood; handsome, well-mannered, considerate, socially disconnected, watching from the sidelines as his fellow teenagers celebrated with dance.  Being a teenager is hard enough, add autism to the mix.

My seventeen year old son stood there and I hurt for him, longing for a magic wand to wave and turn him into just another fun-loving teenager at the party.  As my tear ducts started to open up I turned away.  As I began to compose myself  Reggie tapped my shoulder to draw my attention to Julian.  He was dancing! Martina was right there with him as they turned the refreshment area into, in my mind, the home of the spotlight dance.

It was a choreographed hip-hop routine Julian had learned two summers ago during a wonderful six-week program(WELL) for teenagers with high functioning autism.  I can’t fully express the joy we felt as we watched his group’s dance recital at the end of that camp.  Julian had fully committed this routine to memory.  Despite the difficulties he’s had recently, because of his regression, he was the picture of precision. The hand gestures, the slides, the head bob, he had it down.  And there was his smile.

This reminded me of the mysterious and amazing quality of the mind of a person with autism. Though many, previously ordinary, functions had become a challenge for Julian,  he was able to quickly recall and execute that dance routine, with the attendant enthusiasm.  All it took was prompting from Martina.

A study conducted at Ohio State concluded that, in certain circumstances, persons with high functioning autism have better memory performance and higher memory capacities than the rest of us.  I suspect continued research into autism will eventually help us better understand new ways to tap into the potential of the human brain.

Meanwhile back at the dance, led by Martina and our dear friend Ranota, Julian had found his way to the dance floor.  There he was amid the rest of the teens dancing, beaming and shaking his groove thing.

You go son.

Though this is a positive sign that Julian is returning to his old self we’ve told him that he doesn’t have to wave to everyone he sees. Last week, while attending his brother’s basketball game, Julian waved to a gentleman standing next to us as we entered the gymnasium. The man, a complete stranger, returned the gesture with a confused look, as though he were looking at an oddity. If, as was the case with this man, you don’t acknowledge the wave, sometimes, Julian will continue waving until we tell him it’s okay to stop.

After our visit to the hospital I’m not so sure that we should try to curtail this genuine greeting. As we neared the end of the lobby an elderly lady sat in a wheelchair, apparently awaiting someone to tend to her. She looked very lonely, the lobby was bustling with activity, people coming and going. However, there she sat, not able to keep up, it was as though the world had somehow forgotten she existed. 

Julian waved to her, said hello and her face lit up. We stopped to chat and were treated to a very enjoyable visit. She was waiting for a relative to pick her up and bring her home. In the span of about ten minutes we found out she’s a retired teacher, an avid reader of Harry Potter books, a huge college basketball fan and, most of all, loves being around children.

As we said goodbye she took Julian’s hand in hers and thanked him for making her day with that warm wave and beautiful smile. Watching the two of  them in that brief moment reminded me that we have, at our disposal, the ability to enhance other people’s lives simply by the way we treat them. No matter how brief the encounter a hello, a smile, and yes, a wave can make a difference. Even if only for a moment.

I asked Julian why he feels the need to wave to so many people. His reply was typical Julian.  “Because it’s nice”.  Son, you can be nice anytime you desire.

It was hard to know exactly what thoughts were racing through his head at that moment. Since his setback, he hasn’t been very talkative or forthcoming. It takes persistence and patience to get anything out of him. Before averting his gaze, after about a five-minute study of his grandmother, his brow furrowed and he mumbled something to himself.

Later, in a quasi-urgent mode, he asked Martina if he was going to die.  Let’s pause and remember that Julian is processing this in a manner none of us really understand.  Remember, unless otherwise prompted or instructed, persons with autism rarely spend very much time pondering matters beyond their realm of interest.  Though we went to the funeral of a dear friend’s daughter back in June, death just wasn’t a topic of discussion with him.

Martina’s answer?  She explained to him that he has a very long life ahead of him and went on to point out that his grandmother had lived a long time and was now at rest after a sustained illness.  We’re not sure if that answer satisfied him but he didn’t, voluntarily, return to the subject again even after we told him she had died.

I wanted to know how much of this he had absorbed so I sat with him Sunday, in his room, and gently prodded.  Did he realize that he would never be able to speak with, hug or kiss her again in this life?  What came to mind when he thought of her?  What did he say to himself that evening at her bedside?  Were there any questions he had about life and death?

Well, it probably will not surprise you to learn that Julian offered very little in the way of answers.  In response to what he would remember about her, he replied,”Love”.  Simple and heartfelt.  When I pressed him for more, he said ”Pork Chops”.  I initially thought that odd  until he added, “Christmas Eve”. You see his grandmother’s tradition was to hold a Christmas Eve dinner at her house.  She always prepared an amazing meal, for Julian the pork chops stood out.  Funny I don’t remember the pork chops, for me it was the lamb.

Julian and his grandmother each played a role in ushering the other into a new aspect of their respective lives.  When he was a toddler fidgeting in church one day, she pulled out a piece of paper and pen and suggested to Martina that this might help occupy him until the services were over.  Well, as most of you know, that opened the door to one of Julian’s gifts.  His ability to draw.

As for how Julian figured in a new stage of her life?  Six years ago, she was beginning to show early signs of Alzheimer’s, which would eventually take her life.  Martina and her siblings had been discussing ways to introduce the subject to their strong-willed and fiercely independent mother.  That Christmas Eve, we gathered for a family picture after the aforementioned traditional dinner.  As we awaited the photographer’s signal Julian, who was seated next to his grandmother, turned to her and asked, “Are you having memory problems?”

The silence was deafening. We all waited for what seemed like minutes but were only seconds.  She looked at her grandson, smiled and replied, “Well buddy I guess I am”.  She knew full well that his autism didn’t provide him with much of a filter and this was something he’d overheard.  Why he asked that question at that moment?  I have no idea.  But he did and the topic became easier to bring up as Mrs. Kendrick and her family began what Maria Shriver has aptly called the long goodbye.

 I think Julian, in his own way, understands what has happened.  Maybe that evening, as he sat near her, in his own way, he was saying goodbye.