Perfect Symmetry: An Autistic Kid’s Idol Reaches Out
Being a parent to a kid with autism is a frequent lesson in disappointment and your own shortcomings. And what few things they grab onto often become all-encompassing, not just for the kid but for the whole family.
At least, that’s how it’s been for Liam and me during his 11 some-odd years here on earth. While I talk a whole lot about his car obsession (production cars, not “cars with faces” or dinky kid cars — at the age of 2 he was instructing me to get him real sedans, not fake cars) he also fell in love with the band Keane when he was very young. It was right before Perfect Symmetry came out, and I was listening to their back catalog, when he started asking to hear the song Atlantic every time we were in our car. He would do the percussion and beat along, and it was pretty much the cutest thing ever.
Thankfully, three albums followed suit and we had a few years where nothing but Keane played. This wasn’t a problem for me, since they’re just about my favorite band. And it gave us something to connect over that wasn’t gas-powered. We talked about what songs meant, we learned facts about the principle members of the band, read up about Tim Rice-Oxley and Tom Chaplin meeting in school, we devoured b-sides and traveled to England on Google Maps. Finally, in 2013, we even saw them live in Atlanta.
True to form, Liam spent 90% of the concert with a pair of headphones on, buried in my lap. It was loud, and it’s very difficult to manage so much stimulus (even if it is your favorite music in the world). But when his favorite song came on, he perked up like a meerkat and stayed for the rest of the ride. For a long time, I figured that was the closest we’d ever get to the band.
Keane went on hiatus after their tour, and Liam and I listened to Tim and Jesse’s Mt. Desolation album and Tom’s solo album. Liam found some new music, even some modern pop stuff, but nothing has come close to Keane.
I was satisfied that while I couldn’t quite deliver the band to him, I got close.
Then this happened:
Let me back up.
A few weeks ago, I heard from my friend Sophie in the UK that she wanted to have Liam’s address. Now, you’ll recall Liam was a rough place this year, and he’d had many people reach out, so I didn’t think much about it. When a little brown package arrived from the UK a couple of weeks later, it sat on the counter until he came home from his new school, which is residential during the week.
So my husband Michael just casually gave him the package, which he opened and read.
The little packaged contained a hand-written letter of encouragement to Liam from Tim Rice-Oxley, with updates about what the band is up to, and the kind of beautiful language one might expect from the award winning songwriter.
I got this text at work:
And promptly fell apart for about 15 minutes. I’m not a crier. But this…
2017 was a hard year for us. The kind of difficult that I don’t think we’ve all processed yet. But in a world that seems progressively more difficult on my son and less and less understanding of his shortcomings, there are good people who take the time to reach out. That letter touched Liam in a way that few things in his life ever have. I can’t thank Sophie enough for making the connection, or Tim for taking the time to reach out to a single kid who thinks the world of him. His card, signed CD, and letter are treasures for Liam now, a price above even his most prized cars. Now every time I listen to the band, I have a different perspective. A knowing connection. Yes, Liam, there is a Christmas spirit.
We are hoping for a brighter, kinder 2018. We are hoping that kids around the world suffering as Liam has find some kind of peace. Not every child will get their hero’s hand written note, but I do believe we can all be heroes… just for one day. Listen to children. Acknowledge their struggles. Do what you can to life them up. The outpouring of support we’ve had during our struggles has been overwhelming, but we are very, very lucky.
Who are you, what are you fighting for
Holy truth? Brother I choose this mortal life
Lived in perfect symmetry
What I do, that will be done to me
As the needle, slips into the run out groove
Love, maybe you feel it too
“Perfect Symmetry” from the album Perfect Symmetry
