Wayne’s World: Learning what you’re truly missing out on

I recently learned that a father’s job is never truly done. And I’m glad it’s not.

In my case, for those who have read this column, you may already know that my wife and I are the parents of triplets, two of whom are autistic. Neither Ethan nor Savannah can communicate much verbally, and most of what they “communicate” to us is by observing physical cues and well, the fact that we’ve known them for 26 years.

Wayne Chan

(Courtesy photo )

We’ve hit some really important milestones over the last couple of years. We’ve managed to get both of them settled in homes structured with supervision by health care professionals. We know that despite being on the autism spectrum, their hopes and dreams are just like everyone else their age — they want to make their way in life, and live as independently as possible.

The last piece of the puzzle that truly opened things up for them was to incorporate a relatively new communication method called “Spell to Communicate,” where a therapist with an iPad and a keyboard using verbal prompts and specific gestures, can coax out the most complex communication that we never realized Ethan and Savannah were capable of.

I’ve gone through some of this before in this column, but Ethan has typed out things like, “For the first time in my life, I’m able to communicate to people. I’m free.” He’s also communicated to us that he’s very capable, and that he wants us to know that he has a lot of potential and to never give up on him.

I’ve attended a number of these sessions with both Ethan and Savannah and I’ve seen what they’re capable of. For any parent of autistic kids, it’s become a miracle to see them share their inner thoughts.

For the last few months, since both the kids live in different parts of the county, my wife Maya and I have taken the “divide and conquer” approach to handling their needs.

For the “Spell to Communicate” sessions, I typically pick them up and bring them home before Maya drives them to the session, so neither one of us has to drive too far. Since the therapist records everything and sends us a transcript, I figure I’m not missing anything that he has to say.

But here’s what I missed and what I learned at his last session.

Towards the end of the session, the therapist said, “Ethan, you’re so smart. You’re doing so well today.” And Maya also said, “We know you’re really capable, Ethan. We’re proud of you. Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

He typed, “Does Dad know that I’m smart?”

After reading that in the transcript, I sat back and realized, he’s asking this because I haven’t been going to the sessions. I haven’t been there for a while. That’s when it dawned on me that it’s not enough just for me to realize how capable he is, I need to be there so he can see it and I can acknowledge it.

It’s the difference between taking care of him and showing that I care about him.

So, this last week, when I picked him up, and started driving him back home, I asked him, “Ethan, do you want me to go with you to the session or do you want me to stay home?” I wanted to give him a choice.

He immediately replied, “Go please.”

And so I did.

And the first thing Ethan typed when we went into session was, “Hi Dad. I’m glad you’re here.”

So am I, son. So am I.

Wayne Chan, a Poway resident, writes about family and community life and shares humorous views of topics of the day.