My daily drive had become a marathon. Gutted at not living with Rowan any more I gladly offered to be his transportation to his day program until a bus could be contracted and hired. Money was super tight and the cost of gas killed me but each day I’d make the round trip. My house to his to day program and again each afternoon. Over all it was nearly a 4 hour round trip, with the exception of afternoon rush hour traffic. It was an easy but long drive. The 2 hours spent with him each morning and again each afternoon were priceless though. We had a twelve hour play list. Every song memorized and sung to with gusto.
Those drives became a routine. One I looked forward to. Each morning I would get gas and head to Rowans house. Once he was in the car we would go to the convenience store down the road, for me Pepsi, for Rowan Iced Tea and a donut. His request was always the same, tea and a small donut. Trying to explain they didn’t come in sizes was futile. Then we got on the highway and drove. Always the same way, the same highways, the same back roads. I could do the drive in my sleep almost.
The actual drive was boring. Just Rowan and I, uninterrupted and unbothered by the cars around us. It was our time and I cherished the hours I could spent with him. Our conversations were different. A conversation between a slightly unbalanced adult and a very Autistic boy. A conversation that anyone from the outside of our little world wouldn’t be able to understand, Rowans words a mixture of actual words, and some he would make up, not knowing the exact word to name what he wanted, and sounds. Imitating animal sounds was his specialty.
There was no pressure, no eggshells, no fear. Just us, relaxed and enjoying time we spent together. It helped on the many days I didn’t have the energy to make the drive. Exhausted from lack of sleep and the weight of the mess I had left behind. That drive saved me in a way. Most days it was difficult to function and all I wanted to do was hide in my bed. But his transportation was my responsibility. It became a way to hide from the chaos I was still trying to manage. And also an obsession, my way of proving I was a good mother and was fully capable of caring for my son.
I cherished those few stolen hours. My hands calloused from the wheel, my butt numb from sitting so long, But those times are times I cherished. I had my little boy with me and that was all that mattered.
Still standing and still cherishing the miles that saved me,
K.
