In cars

Sometimes when my kids were small, nap resistant, and I needed a bit of mental space, we took a car ride. They’d settle, usually sleep, and I’d cruise quiet neighborhoods, pacified by the balm of road rumble and the visual placidity of architectural structures.

Now I do it with Jeff, and it still works. Not for nap-induction, but as a means to generate a sort of white-noise zone, where the angst of the ill-fit caused by our diverging abilities to communicate in the old ways is dissipated, much as a good antenna bearing eliminated the aggravating static on your old analog tv.

Talking works better there. Though sometimes it’s me doing most of the talking, but his listening works better too.

Wade has observed that Jeff is best able to comprehend and communicate when his eyes are closed. It is true. You can put him on the phone and--especially if he relaxes and closes his eyes--his interaction with the person at the other end is as close to “normal” as you’ll ever see it.

The car effect is similar. Despite there being visual input, it is of a low-demand sort. Jeff seems to be able to understand--mostly--and respond--mostly. To be clear--he responds at home too, but not necessarily in a way that suggests he grasped my meaning. I serve a volleyball, he returns a shuttlecock.

Car responses show a better intake of the input. There is still the hiccup factor--that is, the same question may be raised multiple times. As an example, this morning we were discussing The Campanella Family. Input items provided by me: Jeff’s family bought the Holly Ridge Road house from them. The daughters--Mary Beth and Cathy--were abrasively assertive. The dad struck me as taciturn and surly. And...once, Mary Beth and Cathy most impertinently insinuated themselves into a trip to the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang that my mother was sponsoring for me, my sister Ellen, and our cousin Bev. We covered the fact that I did not recall what Mr. Campanella did for a living, as that was not of particular interest to my 7 year old self, but Jeff still asked. 3 times, spaced throughout the conversation. “What did he do for a living?” I don’t want to keep saying “we already covered that,” so I just say “I don’t remember.” Again.

But the sense of calm, and the pleasant companionship afforded by road trip white noise is nice thing. Like a good cup of coffee or just one Godiva chocolate.