In last week’s column, I published a letter from a mother whose son is diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder among other diagnoses. Through a conversation with her preteen daughter, she felt like she was just hit with a ton of bricks, fully realizing and accepting that her son would not have any of the experiences one has when they are in the parshah; finding someone you develop feelings for, love, a proposal, marriage, and raising a family with... Where is her son’s shidduch?
I published her letter because it is just as important as any other letter I receive. It is a dating issue. True, it is more like a life issue, but a dating issue nonetheless because her son will never date. She looks forward to the craziness of the shidduch system that she will have to deal with when it is her daughter’s time because it will be the only time she goes through it; and it breaks her heart. My column is a place where people are free to vent their feelings, and my readers and I are shoulders to lean on. Well, this mom needed and needs many shoulders.
Where to begin? Is there even a response for her? I am going to put on my social work snood because this mother needs more support than advice on what to do in a particular situation. And my response goes out to all the families out there dealing with this or a similar issue. I hear you. My readers hear you. You may feel alone, but you are not alone. Physically, yes, you are home alone dealing with your son squeezing out Lake Dawn and swinging on the chandelier. Yes, we are not with you when your son wakes up at 3:00 a.m. one or more nights in a row... but we hear your cry. I hear your cry. You feel isolated and alone. Things parents take for granted, like their child telling them how their day at school was or if they are not feeling well, you must guess at. You must fit meetings and appointments with doctors, IEP meetings, school administrators, and therapists into your day of going to work and running a household. How do you do it? I am not applauding you—because you do not want applause; I am in awe of you. Some of us are exhausted after half a day of work and dealing with our children without a diagnosis and doing the errands and cooking; but you are doing that plus a million other things.
You wrote that April is Autism Awareness Month. My response will appear in May, but for you, every month is Autism Awareness Month. You wrote your son was diagnosed a few years ago. My guess is that you know of the poem Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley. For those of you who do not know it, Welcome to Holland is a poem about adjusting to unexpected life circumstances, interpreted in the context of raising a child with disabilities. The speaker compares life to planning a dream trip to Italy; reading tourist books, looking at maps, and learning how to speak Italian... only to unexpectedly arrive in Holland instead. You are “stuck” in Holland. Yes, Holland is pretty with windmills and tulips, but you want Italy. You studied for Italy. You packed for Italy. Everyone you know is talking about their trip to Italy! Where is your trip to Italy? Why are you stuck in Holland, a place you never dreamed of going? Holland was not the original destination. The poem emphasizes that it still has its own unique beauty, culture, and value.
The central idea is about acceptance, resilience, and shifting expectations. Rather than focusing on the disappointment of not reaching “Italy,” the poem encourages appreciating the different—but still meaningful—experience of “Holland.” It highlights the emotional journey from grief and confusion to acceptance and appreciation of an unplanned path in life.
I love my parents deeply, but they were not the only ones who taught their children the simple lesson; if everyone put their troubles in a pekel in the middle... you would choose your own. You know how to deal with them. You have had years of practice. You are conditioned for them. Mom, I bet you would choose your child every time if ever given the choice “to choose a child,” as my 10-year-old daughter asks me.
I bet you see things differently because of your son. Because of your son, you are forced to have a plan A, B, and C, like you pointed out, but you also get to appreciate things that others in your situation never would. You can sit there and say, “I don’t want to appreciate my child sleeping through the night or being toilet trained at seven... I just want it to be and I’ll appreciate him passing tests and getting into college...” But like you said, Hashem gave you and your family this special neshamah to take care of. He could have chosen any family; He specifically chose yours. You may never know why and you may never appreciate it, but after me’ah v’esrim, it will all be clear.
You will never be an empty nester, and if you are, it will be because your son is living in a group home or some sort of highly supervised housing. So, you will not even be a “normal empty nester.” You wrote that you will constantly be worried and involved in every aspect of your son’s life until... you are not. You do not have those few minutes of relaxing as other parents do because if it is too quiet... something must be happening. Mischief must be afoot.
Your son is a vital part of your family and you do not want to pass him off to someone else for even 24 hours. You cannot go away for Shabbos in case he wakes early or makes a mess of someone’s home. Same for Shabbos lunch. But have you thought of going to a local program in a hotel? I only suggest that because if your son wakes up early, he can be taken down to the lobby without disturbing others. He will have plenty of room to run around, but... someone will have to be with him to ensure he does not roam off or get into any dangerous situations. I sit here and I cannot think of anything you have not thought of to make this less burdensome, to make you and your family feel less isolated from the community and from friends.
Do you rest or do something you enjoy when your son has respite hours? Or do you use that time to accomplish what you cannot when your son is around, so you do not get to rest? You wrote that you cannot take your two children out together in case your son has a meltdown. You have two children who need and want different things—and your daughter wants a “normal” brother. I can understand why she would say that, but it probably stabs you in the heart every time to hear it. You did not do this “on purpose.” But it is not an abnormal thing for your daughter to feel—or for you to feel at times. As a parent, it stabbed me in the heart to read: “People won’t see this cute, adorable kid soon. They’ll see a person they’ll tell their own child not to stare at in the street.” Therapy should be a must for all.
There are programs for siblings of special needs kids and programs for families with special needs kids. I am not telling you anything you do not already know. Like you wrote: “Believe me, every parent of a disabled child has tried whatever they’re able to in order to make some aspect of their and their child’s life easier.”
From what you wrote, I do not think your son is high-functioning; able to do things on his own or speak in simple sentences... which makes life all the harder. Sometimes when a child gets therapy at an early age and their autism is not severe, there is a chance they can do things on their own, they do not need constant supervision, and they can even hold a job when they get older. Those parents hold onto that hope; it makes life feel less overwhelming. A friend who has a child with a diagnosis of severe autism said that she changed the Welcome to Holland poem to Welcome to Beirut. Because that is what it feels like. She does not get to see windmills and flowers; she is seeing the youth diapers, hears the stimming, fights to get her son to try new foods, and struggles to stay awake some days.
The most important thing is that you take care of yourself. Not just staying physically healthy, but emotionally. Can you take an hour to read or get a facial? Speak with your husband about carving out some time for you. You are the person your son turns to for everything. Take time for yourself. Between work, meetings, errands, and your daughter, take one hour every few weeks at the very least. Sleep. Do what you want. I suggest staying in touch with friends. You may not want to hear them complain about their day or kids... but you need your friends. Your friends may not know all the isolation and anxiety you have every day. They may know your son has autism and your days are hard, but let them know how hard! I am sure they would offer help in any way. You wrote that writing is cathartic. Can you carve out a few minutes here and there to write? Write about your feelings. Try writing a story. I do not know if you want to go to support groups for parents of children with special needs, but they are out there. Some parents do not want to join support groups because they do not want to feel “like one of them.” “If it’s just us in the house, we’re fine. But to go someplace where everyone is the same, it’s like putting a label on me. Enough with labels.” I have heard someone say that to me.
If your daughter has any trouble with shidduchim because of your son—you do not want that family anyway. They will not be as understanding, patient, or able to love out loud as your family has learned to be. Your daughter deserves a great man from a great family. But yes, your son’s diagnosis may be the reason some families will say “no.” It just is what it is. And it is crazy. It is the craziness we created ourselves in the “shidduch system.”
The frum community also takes care of each other and has created some amazing organizations to help one another; Hatzalah, Bikur Cholim, Tomchei Shabbos. They are here to help you and your family. You may feel alone and tired and think that no one understands, but we do.
Anytime you want to write to me just to vent, write. I will not publish it. I am here for you. I can put you in touch with people and organizations or not; the ball is in your court.
Hatzlachah to you all.
Those asking for more Goldy do not have to wait long. Like I always say: I’ve Been There, Dated That. Nothing surprises me. Well, surprise! I’ve got a book coming out in June. More details to come....
Goldy Krantz is an LMSW and a lifelong Queens resident, guest lecturer, and author of the shidduch dating book “The Best of My Worst” and children’s book “Where Has Zaidy Gone?” She can be contacted at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. Goldy is an experienced dating coach offering private sessions. To inquire, contact her at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
