I Understand My Non-Verbal Son Better Than Anyone I’ve Ever Known

When people hear that my son is nonverbal with profound autism, I always know what one of their first questions will be. How do you understand each other?

Sometimes I explain in detail. Sometimes I break it down into moments. Sometimes I offer examples.

In reality, there’s a simple way to respond.

I understand him better than I understand anyone else.

Lucas’s motivations are on full display all the time. What Lucas wants, he wants. No layers. No second-guessing.

What do I mean? I mean that Lucas is fully in tune with what he enjoys and why he enjoys it.

If he wants to chew on his sleeve, he will chew on his sleeve. Even if he knows I will correct him for it. He doesn’t sneak it. He doesn’t hide it. If I see him inching it toward his mouth, he won’t pretend he was admiring the fabric.

No. He will shove it into his little face even if I’m making eye contact. It’s what he wants, so he does it.

There are no hidden shames for my son. Lucas has no shame in the things he enjoys. If he does something, he does it on full display. Nothing is hidden.

He will hug me in front of anyone. There’s never been an instance where he tries to act cool or entice people with some sort of charming technique. Lucas’s charm is natural. Everything he does is natural. He can’t fake a smile.

There’s a base-level realism to my son that none of us can touch. The more people I meet in life, the rarer I see that it is.

Most of us can’t even fathom this approach to life. We operate on false premises all the time. Come on. Some of us do things and don’t even see the real reasons behind them. We’ve become so used to suppressing our true nature that we don’t even know we’re doing it.

Not Lucas. Understanding him is ten times easier than anyone else. Proof? Fine. Try this one on.

Have you ever offered someone a drink when they come into your house and it’s like trying to get them to buy insurance? It feels like you’re forcing a free water on a guest who is obviously dying of thirst.

They’re standing there, panting and sweating. Every word sounds dry, like their mouth can barely keep up. You have to literally ask four times before they agree to let you hand them a bottle.

Maybe they were taught not to accept things as kids. Maybe they’re just self-conscious about putting the host out. Maybe anything. Who knows?

Do you know what Lucas does when he needs a drink of water and he’s in his room with the gate closed?

He throws his cup into the hallway.

I kid you not. I have woken up many mornings to a cup sitting in between our rooms. I’ll look up and say, “You want water?”

Lucas will smile and touch his mouth. I give him water. That’s how easy it is to understand him.

The only thing that neurotypical people might have over him in terms of requests and motivations is urgency. While it might be a bit jarring at times, it is another aspect of his approach that makes understanding easy.

My boy could be downstairs in the den when the sudden craving for a cookie will come over him. Out of nowhere, he will run up the steps to find me.

With the same frenzied energy most of us save for house fires and life-saving medication, Lucas will barrel into the kitchen and grab my hand with fevered energy. I could be on the phone, preparing dinner, or in a coma. He doesn’t care. Cookie, Daddy! Cookie!

It sounds annoying and, on paper, it is. But in practice, it’s kind of funny. Every time he does this, I laugh, and he ends up getting a cookie. In moments like this, I know it’s important to him. I don’t know why he suddenly needs that cookie, but I respect it.

And that’s how I understand Lucas. That’s how he understands himself.

I wish everyone was like him. I wish everyone could be honest in their motivations and hidden desires. I wish we all could be a bit more honest with each other and ourselves.

In my life, I try to be. I’ve learned that from Lucas. Everything flows better when you can pinpoint what you want and why you want it, even if those reasons aren’t as pure or magnanimous as you’d like. You can only hide shameful secrets so long before someone tapes them up around town.

Wouldn’t it be nice to own them all ahead of time? Not only be who you are, but proudly show it. I learned that from my non-verbal son. I learn so much from him every day.

That’s not hard to understand. Not with him.


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