It is my first response. When Benjamin unspools I look for a reason. Logic would assert that it is a strategy for avoiding a repeat fiasco, but secretly it is a search for an entrance ticket to my empathy. If there is no justification, there is no excuse. Or excusing. 

 

This week a man from the Office of Vocational Rehab paid us a visit. A clump of people interested in Ben's future circled up to plot gainful employment. As is the case in these huddles, we asked Ben what he wants and he mumbled. We cobbled other questions. He mumbled again. Then the rest of us articulated his strengths and weaknesses for the professional, who wrote copious notes. Ben felt helpless. Or helped. I am not sure which. 

 

The meeting ended with Ben's composure raveling, and we each had our marching orders for finding him a job. Not a big one. Just a calm place to do data entry, or cleaning, or put the right amount of pills in the little boxes a few hours a week. I wish there were job openings for listing the factors of 24,738. Or naming the actors who voiced every Disney and Pixar film for the last forty years, and the number of scenes in each movie. Just for fun I asked him the other day how many scenes there are in Finding Nemo, which he told me. I inquired how he knows such things. 

 

"I looked on the back of the DVD at Uncle Roy's." 

 

I happen to know we have not visited there in quite awhile. 

 

"What year was that?"

 

"2016."

 

The rest of the day hummed along until after supper. Which he did not eat. Then he let loose. Howling and thrashing when the rest of us had moved on. But he was reacting to what probably feels like a titanic shift in his world. Would it eradicate his trips to Wawa with his brother? Would it make walks with Uncle Max impossible? Would he be sentenced to a life of drudgery?

 

Unable to voice those concerns, he yelled instead. 

 

Although is it alarming when it happens, if I lay out the bare facts he broke no rules. Ben did not hit anyone, or break things. He was loud. Scared. Can I give him a wide berth for such emotions? 

 

I quickly acknowledge the limits of my perspective. Often Ben's behavior baffles me. But now and again I see a sliver of what it is like to navigate the world with his gifts and quandaries.

 

Which throws open the creaky gates to my compassionate heart.