Please Stop Telling Me You “Need” Me

“Hello, Mr. Guttman. This is Gerald from the Generic Company. We have an exciting opportunity about something or whatever. We need you to return this call…”

Need is a big word, and few people genuinely understand its gravity. Voice mails and emails like this aren’t rare. They’re common. The worst part? They don’t need you to call. You know how I know?

I don’t call.

And somehow the companies remain in business to contact me again every three months. My car warranty is fine. I’m not interested in buying things. I made the appointment; your call to me is the confirmation. I’ll call you if I cancel. You don’t need me.

Forgive me for being dismissive, but I have someone in my life who genuinely needs me. I have a person who has shown me the true meaning behind being needed. My son Lucas.

Nonverbal with severe autism, Lucas is an enigma to many outside our home and I get it. His claps can echo through rooms. His manic jumps for joy often come from nowhere and can be jarring when unexpected. He suddenly wants something and, through a series of gestures, may try to communicate that. Most people don’t understand it.

“What does it mean when he scratches his head?”

His head’s itchy.

As his father, though, I get it. I get all of it. I know the happy jumps from the angry jumps. I know that clapping is part of his routine and, while it might echo for a bit, it eventually stops. I know that his hand to his mouth means he wants to eat. His fingers against his palm mean he wants his iPad. I get him. I understand it.

Lucas needs me. I can’t explain it any better than I just did. Everything I listed there are things he knows that I know. We’ve spent so much time together that our communication has transcended words. I get him. He gets me.

Beyond communication, when it comes to taking care of Lucas’s actual needs, he counts on me even more. If he can’t find someone who understands him, Lucas doesn’t eat. He doesn’t get water. He doesn’t even get to sleep.

Seriously, sometimes, when on his iPad, my son will get so into the pause, unpause, clap, and hop game that he continues going at full speed, even when he’s exhausted. I’ll come into his room and reach out my hand. From there, he will gladly hand over his device and then promptly pass out.

But if I never came into the room to take it, he’d still be awake now, days later.

That’s the definition of need right there. He can’t eat without me. He can’t sleep without me. In the most literal sense, he can’t live independently without someone there to understand what he needs.

And that can be pretty terrifying.

Sure, I work on all his life skills and – fingers crossed – by the time I’m wished into the big cornfield in the sky, my boy will have the ability to care for himself in many ways. I don’t kid myself. I know he will need lifelong care. I do, however, want him to do as much as possible to make life easier for whomever takes over after me.

Now take all of that and wrap it up. All the fear of leaving Lucas one day, all the things he depends on me for, and all the ways in which I’m entrusted with being his guide to the world – and take in all the need that goes with it.

Then ask, does it compare to “needing” me to call you back?

Does it compare to anything anyone might “need” from me in life? A frantic work email at 7AM about an invoice that “needs” to be filed. Does it? Does it?

I get it done. I get it all done. I don’t fret and I don’t make phone calls flailing my hands and screaming, “Heavens to Betsy.” To put it simply, I don’t stress over the small stuff.

I don’t even stress over the big stuff.

Give the assist to the heart surgery, but Lucas has been the one to show me what need truly means. Every single day I am with him, I am conscious of the importance I hold in his life. I know he relies on me. I’m aware of what’s at stake if I fail him.

Yet, it gets done. The person who depends on me the most in life is always taken care of. His smiles, his jumps, and his incessant kisses on my cheek are all earned.

No one needs me like Lucas.

I’m sure some might see this as a gotcha moment. After all, he has an 18-year-old neurotypical sister who is one of the two centers of my universe. If Olivia asks me for something, I run to help.

But, as hard as this is to write, especially as she’s about to leave for college, I have to be honest. She doesn’t need me in the same way.

That’s because, just as I did with Lucas, I worked to help her reach the full potential she could. The adult she’s grown into is, in many ways, more equipped to handle the world than I ever dreamed of. Proud is too small of a word to explain the way I feel about her accomplishments.

So I know she can do for herself and the things that she wants from me are things I gladly do to help her through life. But, if I wasn’t there to do them, I know she could achieve anything. In a time of strong women, my daughter is the strongest one I have ever met.

Lucas – he’s the sweetest, kindest, and most pure soul you could ever know. He’s my Little Engine That Could and tomorrow, he might wake up and be able to do everything on his own. Anything could happen.

If it doesn’t, though, I got him. I got him because he needs me. He makes me feel more important than anyone on Earth.

That’s why I need him too.

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