No Place Like Home
December 29, 2007 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
Just as we turned off the highway to the exit near our condo, I heard Charlie cry out from the back seat: “No home! Bye bye home. Bye home.” We both said something acknowledging that that was exactly how Charlie should feel after one week in California with my parents more than happy to dote on him, eating one several-course Chinese meal after another, going for walks in Berkeley and over the Golden Gate Bridge, mid-morning naps on my parents’ cushy couch with the TV and a laptop with a photo show on. We only make the trip once a year and so have to pack in a year’s worth of visits with my grandmother, Ngin-Ngin, aunts and uncles, my great uncle, cousins on both sides. As Charlie is getting older and as he is an only child, I’ve come to feel more and more grateful for the deep-running connections within my family, and for what it means that he can always have his place at the table.
This visit was full of many opportunities to connect. On Christmas Eve I got into a long conversation with two of my younger cousins on my mother’s side: They have no memory of our great-grandmother Bak Bak (who lived into her nineties and who had bound feet) and had never been to the cemetery where she is buried. The day before, a “blog-friend” visited with her family and on Thursday, we were honored to have lunch with Liz of I Speak of Dreams. On Wednesday, Jim and I went to see friends that have not seen for 10 years, and Jim spent Thursday afternoon walking around San Francisco with another old friend.
Airplane travel with Charlie has never been easy. Charlie has flown since he was a baby and I carried him on my lap to see my family. In his preschool years, there were a few flights in which he screamed non-stop, once because of his ears, and other times because who wants to be contained in a small space with a full load of strangers, smells, no place to spread out one’s toys? It is not really possible to “run to the bathroom” when you have to run, with uncomfortable child and a bag of clean clothes under one’s arm, in an aisle smack in the middle of which are the flight attendants serving drinks and turbulence hits. For some years I packed bags of toys and (gluten-free, casein-free) food and insisted that none of it could go in the overhead bins, lest something be needed in a rush. Jim and I bent ourselves over double to find missing puzzle pieces and blocks and crayons and pegs that had rolled off Charlie’s tray table.
Then one year we took an overnight flight and I realized, sleep is very, very good.
Ever since then I have tried to schedule us for flights that leave very early in the morning: Charlie falls asleep for a good part of the flight and I find myself in the unusual situation of “having time” to read a book or close my own eyes. (Hence we found ourselves leaving at 3.30am last Friday to drive to the airport.) On Thursday night, Charlie stayed up very late and only fell asleep after midnight. He was one moment excited and the next dumping out my suitcase; he finally gathered every fleece blanket in the house (seven or so) and made them into an elaborate mound. We got him up at 4am and headed to the airport, where Charlie patiently followed one request after another as we checked our luggage and went through the security line.
Stay by PoPo. Over here, Charlie! Take off your shoes. Take off your coat and vest. Put them in here. In the bin, in here. Wait, Charlie. Wait. Now walk through the metal detector. Get your shoes. You can put them on. There’s your coat. Get the blue backpack. Backpack. Carry it over to this bench. Wait for Mom and Dad…..
Charlie walked ahead of us onto the airplane. We took seats in the last row, where Charlie had two windows to look out of. “Buckle up,” he told me; I first had him take off his coat and vest and, when Charlie tucked his legs under him, his shoes. He opened the blue backpack and took out a worn-out fleece blanket and clutched it, along with his blue case. After the plane took off, he had two cups of Sprite and then sleep took over. We had to stop in Chicago and, due to snow, were delayed leaving; Charlie awoke with a smile, looked around, and went back to sleep soon after we took off, his blanket pulled over his head.
After landing in Philadelphia, Charlie kept his blue case under his arm as he followed us to the baggage claim area: In these situations, we do not need to hold his hand and he has learned to stay with us. “Bus,” said Charlie as Jim dragged our suitcases and we went in search of the shuttle to take us back to Economy Parking. I retraced our steps from last Friday and there was the black car. Charlie ran to get in and we were back crossing the Delaware to Jersey. We stopped for McDonalds and Charlie sat up straight and eager, until that last moment when we were on exit ramp to our condo.
I see this in Charlie often: However great his excitement and interest in doing something, at the very last minute he seems to freeze and fear comes into his face and he says “no.” We used to try to make light of his worry as if this would help him to forget it; somewhere in the past two years we started to acknowledge it: “Of course you feel sad, we had such a great time in California! And more great times here in Jersey.”
Charlie walked into the condo and knelt on the floor, coat and shoes still on and moaned. Jim and I interspersed talking to him and giving him a hug with unloading our luggage and going through the mail, and when I next looked at Charlie he was unzipping the blue case and smiling. After a few minutes, he ran to his room and brought out his white laptop, a bin of flashcards, the boards that we use to post his activity schedule on, and wrapped a blanket around him.
Home’s a bit sweeter after your travel far and wide.
Great story and great ending. M has traveled with us extensively (even on 12-hour flights) and has had ups and downs (indeed, being crowded with lots of noisy people can be *very* stressful), but definitely likes both adventures far afield and getting back home to routine.
As for me… your accounts of the Bay Area bring back happy memories of years past. Thank you!! And welcome back, great that all went well and safely.
Happy new year, may it bring much good to all of us!
“Jim and I bent ourselves over double to find missing puzzle pieces and blocks and crayons and pegs that had rolled off Charlie’s tray table.”
These were so familiar… We are still doing that! Recently found out, early morning flight is an excellent choice. He got so excited that he fell asleep before the plane took off.
Home Sweet Home! Sounds like you all had a wonderful visit with your family and Charlie is building on the relationships and memories of the special times. He is growing his roots in so many ways; it warms my heart to read about them all. Happy, Happy New Year!
Glad you are all home safely. Great travel story. The fear freeze rings familiar, and we too eventually figured out that sympathy was best. Actually, our two older sons have proved to be fantastic travelers as long as we’re smart about what they need. Our oldest once screamed his way five miles down a mountainside because we didn’t have the right food for him. We learned quite a few lessons that cold snowy day. I think we have to be smart about our children’s needs and ways of seeing the world, no matter who our children are.
Sigh. I miss my bridge. We lived in the Presidio right next to the GG bridge. I loved the foghorns.
12 hour flights! Not ready for that yet — am inspired!
I went for a walk up the “hill” (it is very steep) above my parents’ house and saw the GG and the Bay Bridge every day—-stunning views. But the view of a good ol’ suburban street here in NJ is ok too.
Also under the seat, various “ick” things were to be found. But I’ve certainly seen worse in 10 years of trying to retrieve Charlie’s prized (small) objects from all manner of floors…… if we stayed longer, even he might have had his fill of 8 course Chinese meals.
Or maybe not.
Charlie seems to put up with the septuply damned TSA with more equanimity than I would. I have refused to fly on commercial airliners since the famous September 11th events, though it has cost me the loss of a considerable amount of property, some of it irreplaceable objects I had loved since early childhood.
I am afraid that if I am subjected to the kind of insults those guys do on us formerly free citizens, I might just lose control of myself and go for them, autie style, with teeth, and that I would be lucky to survive the encounter.
I’m old enough to remember when airline passengers were treated as citizens, not slaves or subjects. When Airline Pilots were REQUIRED, not permitted, to carry revolvers, as they were carrying the Mail.
That was a time when I, as a little kid, was invited through the always-open door to the cockpit of the DC-6B, to look at all of the cool gauges, instruments and blinkenlights
Umm, if I “were” subjected… Being an SF fan since way back, the subjunctive mood is my friend, though I’ll not get naked with it.
I am very fond of the subjunctive mood—and of the optative, another mood in ancient Greek!
Going through security is so high-stress, I have to remind myself to just stay cheerful because it would not do anyone good for Charlie to get overly stressed! I’m not looking forward to the day he has to have the “wand” waved over him t check if he has anything “questionable” on his person—-if we could, I would so much rather drive!
Ah, I have very little Latin, and no Greek at all.
Optative? I hesitate to ask you to explain that, as I have not paid to hear your lectures, but could you indulge me, and explain, a bit?
How nice! It sounded like a good time, all considered. The part about the views, however, made me laugh in particular. Although I’ve now been back in Reno for a bit, it’s still a noticeably different feeling being able to see a distance (and not that to the nearest tree).
Cliff
I’m really happy we had that chance to connect!
It’s so nice that Charlie loves traveling and seeing his grandparents. My autistic boy is also a great traveler and we’re just coming back from an awesome trip to San Diego. It was hard to leave, but then when we got home we all felt great relief.
So great to meet you and so glad to hear you had a great trip—-would love to take Charlie to San Diego again someday. Am definitely relieved to be back home, for sure.
@Cliff—it could not be more different out here back in Jersey; people and the whole “pace of things” are different. But good to be back! Hope you traveled safe.
Ah, yes, by yer silence, Madam Perfesser, you hinted that you left it as an exercise for this here lazy student.
I looked it up on Wikipedia, and the optative mood is indeed reely kewl! No wonder that the honest Baptists study Greek so much. A very subtle language, it was and is.
Sometimes I think people were smarter, back then.