Lucas, go say thank you to your sister.

This is a statement that I say to my son fairly often. In an effort to show him that he has others there for him and, to alleviate my responsibilities, I will have his older sister hand him a snack or drink. Things that need to be done for him will be done by many people. It’s not just Dad.

Go on. Say thank you.

You’re probably wondering what “thank you” looks like for a non-verbal boy like mine. The truth? I don’t know.

It can be a half hug or kiss. Usually, it’s one hand on the person’s shoulder. That’s what his sister often gets.

He’ll walk over, hold his iPad in one hand and then place his other on her shoulder as if he was knighting her. He then looks at me with that stoic face he does.

Yes. Say thank you to Olivia.

He remains perfectly still. Eye contact.

Come on. Say thank you.

To this, he will double-tap her as if to tell me, “Yeah. Got it. Sister. She’s right here. Look. Double tap.”

Nine times out of ten, I will let that be enough. That counts. She got her thank you, kinda. She must be happy, right?

I don’t know. She doesn’t look up.

So here I am with one kid disinterested in receiving a thank you. The other kid is disinterested in giving a thank you. I am the only interested fool directing traffic.

Most people hear this story and think, “Oh, that’s nice. At least you got the satisfaction of seeing him thank her.”

Yeah, I don’t know. I guess.

I mean, it’s the smallest of gestures and, in that moment, it doesn’t mean much. In fact, no. I don’t really get any satisfaction of seeing him thank her. It’s just an action that I need to ensure is done because, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not about this one time. It’s about adding them all up over time.

Full disclosure, I’m not sure he understands the overall concept of gratitude. That’s just not how my boy sees the world. He doesn’t do things for thanks and he doesn’t offer them when others do favors his way. It’s just not how he works.

Keep in mind, he’s not rude. He’s loving and caring. The more you do for him, the more he realizes you love him. As that happens, the more love he gives you in return. This is one of the beautiful things about his personality that can be attributed to his autism. It is just another example of autism appreciation.

My goal in all of this is simple. It’s about repetition until “thanks” registers as a concept to him. I want him to eventually realize, “Oh. Someone gave me something. Let me tap their shoulder or give them a half hug. That’s what people do.”

The day that happens will be the day that I know all of these interactions were important. But, will it ever happen?

In a special needs parenting world of unanswered questions, this is one of the few times I can say yes with certainty. Yes, it will happen.

How can I say this with such assurance? Because I did it already with “hi”. When my boy was still a tiny little guy, I made him say “hi” and “bye” to everyone. People came to the house and I’d walk over, as he played on the floor, and make him physically wave hello by wagging his hand in the air in conjunction with my verbalized “hello”. Sometimes, like just his sister earlier, he didn’t even look up during these moments.

I did this when people acknowledged him too. If he is by my side and you say “hello”, he waves back. That’s today and that’s because, when he was small, I would tell him to wave, even when someone would say, “It’s OK, he doesn’t have to.”

Yes, he does. Say hi.

As time went on, greeting people became something he just did. It culminated during one of our early walks around the outdoor outlet malls. Lucas, always so proud to trot along on his own, was marching through the plaza. I’ll never forget the look on his face. At only seven, he was beaming and I was seriously overwhelmed by how cute it all was.

We turned a corner and walked past an area where some guys in their 20s were sitting on one of the islands across from the movie theater. Like the king’s surveyor, I was about ten feet behind Lucas during his grand stroll and the mall, still relatively empty, was his kingdom.

As we passed these guys, he walked right up to one who gave off Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons vibes. I mention this because he didn’t look like a parent or the type of person who would think “Aw, how cute.” He was just a lumpy dude in a Batman shirt sitting.

My little dude walked right up and stood directly in front of him. He put one hand on the guy’s shoulder and did the open-hand/closed hand grabby wave-style hello, about five inches from the man’s face.

I watched as this comic book guy took a confused pause, stopped himself mid-sentence, and made eye contact with Lucas.

Uh, hi.

Lucas smiled at him, turned his head to smile at me, and marched away with a spring in his step.

I offered no apologies or explanations. It took all I had not to break down in happy emotion around this stranger, but I simply said “hello” to him as I walked by and joined my friendly little fellow on his walk.

That’s the power of repetition with my son. That’s why we do things over and over again. Whether it was having him ask for each individual french fry in a plate when trying to teach him the sign for “more” or taping the bathroom routine’s social story on our wall as a reminder, doing things again and again is what sticks with Lucas.

It might look tedious to outsiders now, but they’ll all understand why it’s important when he does it himself. It might be tomorrow. It might not. Either way, it will happen eventually. When it does, I’ll know I did what it takes to show him.

And I know he’ll be thankful for that.