“It’s time,” I told Goldie. She was sitting on her bed listening to music. As a teen she certainly knows how to “chill out.”

“Ok, I’m coming. ” she slowly takes off her headphones and begins to slide the satin edge of a blanket on her bed between her fingers. She stares out into the sun splashed room but probably sees nothing because she is thinking.

Her thinking sometimes tries my patience. It’s important for her to think but it is also important for her to not think too much. Especially when it comes to something very grown up. Something like going to a visitation for a family who just lost their father and husband.

“Come on Goldie, you need to go. She will be so glad you came. “

Goldie knows who SHE is. It’s Mrs. Nelson. She is the one who lost her husband. She is also the one who invited her over to her house to swim. The one who says “hi” to her when Goldie passes by her at church. The one who listens to her when she says “pray for me”. She is the one Goldie must go and see. Even though SHE may have tears in her eyes. Even though she might not smile. Even though Goldie for once would be the one to have to say something first.

“It’s just so sad!” Goldie says, “What should I do? What should I say.”

“You just wait your turn in a line of people. And when you are in front of Mrs. Nelson, you say , “I’m sorry and you give her a hug. That’s all she needs. ” I used the most serious tone I could to say, you are going to do this whether you like it or not.

“I can’t.” She says.

“Well, you will.” I said. I wasn’t going to accept the word “No!” I had dealt with that before. Like the time, she wouldn’t go to the strawberry patch. or the time, she refused to ride a horse. Or the time she wouldn’t say to the waitress “I would like some chicken nuggets please.” I didn’t accept no then. And they were practices for the really hard grown up things such as this one.

“Fine!” Goldie stomps into the car.

The car is quiet. I suppose all of us are wondering what in the world we would say. I have waited in line for an hour sometimes to greet the family at a visitation. An hours is sometimes not enough time to form just the right words. But just two words are necessary anyway.

As soon as we arrive, Goldie needs to be pulled from the car.

“I’m scared,” she admits over and over.

It’s seeing the open casket. It’s seeing Mr. Neslon who used to greet her and smile on his own two feet. Now, he was sleeping in a cozy box.

“You don’t have to see Mr. Nelson. A lot of people will be waiting in line. Just wait in line with us and look away. You don’t have to see him. “

“I can’t. I just can’t.” She has climbed out of the car but stood outside the entrance.

Autism or no autism, I knew exactly what to say to her. And right before I walked into the line of people who were waiting to greet the family, I told her what she should know.

“Goldi, you are now old enough to do this. You are growing up. This is something grown ups do. Even if it is hard. You should and can do it even if you are scared. “

Goldie stood in the corner of the room the entire time. She talked with some people that walked by her. But she never joined us in line. She never greeted her dear friend Mrs. Nelson. She never hugged her. She never said “I am sorry.” She just stood there looking at us do what SHE was supposed to have done.

I said nothing to Goldie until I found her alone in her bedroom. I was “throw in the towel” disappointed. Perhaps I was expecting the impossible. Perhaps seeing someone she knew that had gone from this earth “sleeping in the coffin” was too much for her. Perhaps, because of her autism that excused her from such a hard thing. Perhaps… But perhaps not.

I sat right down on her bed so that my shoulder touched hers.
“Goldie, I believe you could have done a brave thing. You could have hugged Mrs. Nelson and said “I’m sorry.” You could have done it.”

Goldie said nothing. Her tears trickled down her face.

“Just because you have autism doesn’t mean you can’t do hard things. Sometimes, even if you don’t want to do something , you do it anyway, because it is the right thing to do.”

“What should I do now?” she asked.

“You decide”. I walked away and seeing her begin to slide the satin edge of the blanket on her bed through her fingers.

The next morning, there was a card on the counter There was picture of a girl standing in a field of flowers on the front. I opened it up and read the message.

Dear Mrs. Nelson, I am sorry that Mr Nelson has died. I am sorry that I didnt’ give you a hug at the visitation. I promise when I see you, I will give you a hug. I will pray for you. Goldie

“That was a very grown up thing to do Goldie.” I smiled at her holding the card close to my heart.

I mailed the card. Goldie saw Mrs. Nelson a week later and gave her a hug.

Growing up Goldie IS hard. Extra hard because she has autism. Hard, but not impossible. Goldie IS growing up. Impossible!