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A Helping Hand

“Can I help you?” she said quietly, standing respectfully behind me as I tried to maneuver Justin off the ride at Great Adventure. I turned to make sure she was talking to me, saw her smile, and knew she was there to help. I was confident in another second or two I’d have him out (he’s big now, I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt themselves), so I responded “Thank you, but I’ve got this.” She wished us a good night, and moved toward the exit.

It was freezing there that day, but her offer warmed my heart.

In the last two years particularly I’ve had some issues with Justin when we’ve been out and about in the community, and as he’s gotten older and bigger it’s at times been more and more difficult to contain him when I’m alone with him. The last year until this past fall was especially grueling- we struggled at Jenks, at Great Adventure, at the movies, etc. You might wonder why I still kept taking him out. The truth is there were still many instances where he behaved beautifully, coupled with the fact that I’ll be damned if his world becomes smaller than it already is.

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I have my limits.

The times he’s fought me have always been for a reason. Perhaps it was that he wanted to go on a ride he’s been too tall to ride for five years. It might have been for a trip to a water fountain I couldn’t see and thought he was just trying to leave. Perhaps he did just want to leave the venue just minutes after we’d arrived.

Sometimes I know the “why,” and sometimes I’d pay big money for those answers.

But truthfully in the moment I just want him to stop, and sometimes our “wrestling” can be intense. I’ve had a few instances where I’ve been soaked in sweat from the encounter, and I can’t blame it on perimenopause.

We all have to find the humor somewhere.

Those episodes with him are physically and emotionally wrenching. I can honestly say in all the years we’ve had this struggle I’ve only had two offers of help with my son.

Yes, two, and one was a Jenks “cop,” so I’m not sure that really counts.

Justin is bigger than me now. I’m sure an autistic teenager in the throes of a meltdown is a scary sight for some. I completely understand why moms and dads with small children steered clear of us. I get it, I wouldn’t put my kid at risk either.

The truth is I’ve watched some strapping young men glance our way and then give us wide berth. Honestly, I think this community can do better.

It can’t be from lack of awareness, for everywhere you turn in Jersey there’s an autistic kid, so I’m confident people knew what my son had. To be honest most of the time I can figure out a solution to his angst and work him through it.

But there may come a day where I can’t, and I would love it if someone simply offered to help.

I’m not asking anyone to get physical with my kid. Perhaps you could just hold my purse, or his pretzel, or make a phone call home for me if things really get bad.

Just knowing someone else gave a damn would have helped.

I am far from the only person in this area who has gone through this. I’ve seen other families struggle, and once on the boardwalk I was able to comfort the young sibling of an autistic boy in a gigantic meltdown while his mom worked to calm him down. I felt lucky to be there that day. She told me I helped her.

It took five minutes of my life, and made that family have a better day.

So I’m writing this to our community, a community I have often written about as particularly caring and compassionate where my son is concerned. If you see a mom or dad struggling and you are able, please offer to help. Nine times out of ten they’ll probably refuse, but maybe that one time you can really do something to ease that family’s strife. And while there may be nothing you can physically do for them in that moment, trust me, just by asking them you’ve already helped.

From my community to the greater community at large, I thank you.

For more on my family visit my blog at

Follow me on Facebook at Autism Mommy-Therapist

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