On the way home from work this evening, I call the abode just to see if there's anything they need me to stop and get before dinner.
Me: Hi FF. How are things?
FF: Hi Mom. When's DD coming home?
Me: Um, I don't know. Isn't she there with you? Have you seen her at all today? FF: Uh, I don't think so.
Me: You don't think so, but you don't know?
FF: I don't remember seeing her. Maybe she came down earlier. I don't know.
Sigh. This isn't unusual. Some days the first time they interact with one another is when I call them both down for dinner.
They occupy such different worlds it amazes me that they have the same parents, grew up in the same house, lived in the same town, and ate the same foods. Their dissimilarities, in fact, are why I was so surprised when DD was also diagnosed on the spectrum.
FF is all about sports. DD can't tolerate them. DD is a voracious fantasy reader. IF son o'mine opens a book, it's more likely an action suspense novel. FF is into food, likes cooking shows and restaurants, makes his own simple concoctions in the kitchen. If I'm not there to make food for her, DD assembles the same peanut butter sandwich she's been eating for 23 years. Or she orders pizza online and has it delivered. DD loathes the cold. FF prefers it.
FF is in many ways more social. If he could, he would spend most of his time hanging out with other guys, talking trash, the latest film releases, and trading crude humor references. He can't, of course, because he doesn't have any friends other than those we pay weekly. But that's beside the point. If he had the opportunity, the money, the transportation, and the bros, he'd be there.
DD has more chances to be more social and in some ways may be more socially capable (or maybe "acceptable" is a better word there). She drives a car and can actually get herself to places where there are people. But that happens rarely. In the past six months she went out four times--to dinner with a friend twice, lunch once, and to a dance once (yeah, I about fell over when that happened!). And that was a tremendous improvement for her. She spends the majority of her time in her room, alone. She has a Facebook account she hasn't been on in years. She lurks on mine, so she can read the funny or geeky posts.
DD wants a science career that pays modestly, comes with good benefits, helps her save the planet, and allows her to immerse herself in a world of acceptable nerdiness. FF wants a job that pays a million dollars and lets him live in his own house, and go to movies whenever he wants. Other than that he really hasn't roughed in the career details. He just knows he does not want a job that "matches his interests," something I mentioned awhile back, here.
Are there similarities? I'm literally sitting here having to think about that one. Neither likes talking on the phone. Both take terrible notes when answering the phone. Both have brown eyes. It's a short list.
Remarkably, they do now talk to one another at the dinner table occasionally, usually about a movie they've both seen or chapters of the Percy & the Olympians books, which they've both read. For the most part, we've graduated from the door-slamming, can't-stand-you, how-are-you-my-sibling? years. For the most part.
I think they now appreciate one another's interests and understand their differing challenges and how it affects moods and level of function in varying circumstances. I think they love one another in their own ways.
But will they support one another when we're no longer around? I honestly don't know. And by "support" I mean both emotionally and with life's have-to-dos. Will she talk him through the tough times and disappointments? Will he help shovel her driveway in the winter? WIll they laugh with one another, remembering Mom's annual battle with the ants or Dad's outlandish dreams of a trek to the Hudson Bay?
It's one of my biggest Mom Worries for the future.
