Welcome back, y’all (for some reason I have been using the word ‘y’all’ lately despite being totally annoyed by this southern slang)! C.I.B.F. has been on a little of a late summer hiatus…just… because.
In any case, I have been pondering a very serious subject but one I have decided to view as a positive and possibly awesome opportunity for me. As many of you know we have a child, our only son Frankie, (yes, there is another Frank!) with autism.
The oldest of our three children Frankie, who is now 8 years old, is severely impacted by this disorder. He is completely non-verbal and faces some intense behavioral and social challenges. Since he was diagnosed at age 2, we knew he had an uphill battle with this very puzzling, incurable and incredibly widespread epidemic that afflicts 1 in every 110 children; making it more common than childhood cancer, juvenile diabetes and pediatric AIDS combined.
Needless to say, it has been a tough road for our family but that is not the moral of today’s story. While we continue to have very high hopes for Frankie’s future, there is a strong reality that we may need to care for him for the duration of our lives. Quite honestly, this possibility is, at the very least, worrisome but today it dawned on me that this situation may just evolve into a cool and fun existence…for me anyway.
Allow me to explain why…
Fathers and Sons, throughout the course of history, have possessed a very unique and almost indefinable bond with one another. Sure, some father-son relationships have been major disappointments (READ: Vito & Sonny/Fredo Corleone (Michael was a genius), George Bush & George W. Bush, Earl & Tiger Woods, and Martin & Charlie Sheen (and that strange Estevez person) but, as a rule, Dads and their Baby Boys are loyal, lifetime friends and confidants. As time rolls on and Frankie grows into a man, I may have an exclusive, and incredibly rare, access to the lifetime pass at a Boy’s Club!
In most “normal” families, fathers knowingly and willingly realize they will need to let go of those Apples of their Eyes. Whether Junior is off to college, decides to move out on his own or enlists in Uncle Sam’s Army, somewhere around the age of 18, he will want to take on this world on their own. Cut the cord. Be his own man. And it needs to be accomplished without the help of dear, old Dad.
For me, that day may never come and it struck me as a possibly perfect scenario!
I am fairly certain that our two daughters will move on with their lives someday. They will leave our nest to spread their wings which is fine (of course, I wish I could keep them under my protective custody forever). Additionally, my wife will surely grow somewhat bored with me and most certainly find my insightful wit less and less funny (actually, it has already happened!) as the years press on. Frankie, however, may just be with us for the long haul and just what the doctor ordered.
So, assuming his life skill abilities progress in a reasonable fashion, I may have an all-star roommate with no lease agreement attached. Think of the possibilities? Imagine being able to live with your college roommate, your best buddy, your wing man…forever (accompanied by your wife’s unconditional consent no less )? Think of the fun.
Once Frankie reaches a relatively adult age (I am thinking 15), I could have a backstage pass to my best pal; 24/7/365.
I can just hear it…
“Hey bud, beautiful day… let’s go golfing…Mom and I will have another anniversary next year! No worries”
“Franko, let’s hit the track and double the money you won on that scratch ticket!”
“Frank, remember, ‘Mum’ is the word (literally and figuratively) when she asks how many beers I had during our fishing weekend.”
And here is the best part? Mom (a.k.a. Mrs. Can I Be Frank?) can not utter a complaint. Not a one. Never. What mother in their right mind could ever complain about her husband spending quality time with there son – whether he has special needs or not!
On top of that, Frank, in all probability, will not be taxed with the burden, er blessing, of a girlfriend or wife. Another win for Dad! Why you ask? Let’s admit to a tried and true fact of life; as much as a boy is committed to his Old Man, the power of a good woman will trump that card; everyday and twice on Sunday. Those are just the rules – which I may have the privilege to break.
As a good friend of mine brilliantly stated, ‘When life hands you lemons…find someone whose life handed them vodka’. A wise outlook if you ask me.
Don’t want to get ahead of myself, but as they say is school, dare to dream.
In closing, break out the bunk beds, Frankie-Boy, cause we may just be roomies for life!
Love ya, buddy!
Dad
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