Then there are the folks at Crown, and elsewhere at Random House. The list begins with Molly Stern, my publisher, and her boss, Maya Mavjee, who heads the Crown Publishing Group. Both have been staunch supporters of this book from the beginning. Next are Jay Sones, Julie Cepler, and Danielle Crabtree in marketing, who together have devised creative ways to reach people who might not otherwise discover my writing. I mustn’t forget the indefatigable Sarah Breivogel in publicity and Stephanie Chan in editorial. Thanks to production editor Robert Siek, who taught me when the names of judicial branches should be capitalized. The jacket and interior design of the book come to you courtesy of Chris Brand, Oliver Munday, Elizabeth Rendfleisch, and Lauren Dong. And if you’re reading this in some faraway corner of the world, you can probably thank Linda Kaplan in subsidiary rights.
My editor, Rachel Klayman, put a tremendous amount of work into this project. I was going to say “and it shows,” but you never saw the book before her editorial touch, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
I have been kept on the straight and narrow by Matthew Martin of the Random House legal department. He’s a stickler for accuracy and detail, and his considerable efforts substantially improved the last part of the book.
I’d like to thank the parents and readers who helped me shape the story. First is Lisa Greenman, a federal defense attorney who works tirelessly to help young people with disabilities charged with serious crimes. Monica Adler Werner of the Ivymount School in Rockville, Maryland, offered valuable advice about teaching kids on the spectrum. Lori Shery of ASPEN (the Asperger Syndrome Education Network) offered a parent’s perspective and wrote the reader’s group guide to this book. Pat Smith of Sewall Child Development Center in Boulder, Colorado, provided her perspective. Jan Anderson provided the valuable insights of a parent and is responsible for setting up my ongoing school events and workshops.
Finally, I’d like to thank David Lavin and his staff at the Lavin Agency. It’s their work promoting me on the lecture circuit and managing my speaking events that keeps me in the public eye between books.
CLOSING THE CIRCLE
I’d like to close by recognizing two people who play a vital role in our lives but who are underrepresented in this book: my mother, Margaret, and my wife, Maripat.
Maripat and I married in the summer of 2011, which means she was not part of most of the stories you’ve just read. However, it is her kindness and consistent loving demeanor that have kept me on an even keel these past two years, while her gentle spirituality has brought our family together in a way we’ve never really known before. To a significant extent, that’s what made this book possible.
After my last marriage ended in divorce, I found myself living alone in a residential suite of a Springfield Hotel. Glamorous as hotel life sounds to some, it was a formula for depression. The winter I spent there was in many ways the longest of my life. The following spring, I returned to the home I’d built here in Amherst. It was nice to be back, but everything was subtly different. The house felt empty, big, and scary. My son was with his girlfriend in Greenfield, and my mother was in an apartment an hour away. My brother had lived near me for a while, but now he’d moved back to New York. I really didn’t feel I had anyone to turn to.
I tried dating, but the people I met were set in their ways and well established in their own lives. I felt too old to start again. It was hard to imagine any of the people I met living in my home, or me living with them somewhere else. I also couldn’t see how the family who’d been part of my life up to now would stay connected if I moved on.
That was where things stood when Maripat arrived on the scene. I’d known her for many years from the business community and cars, but when I got divorced I didn’t think of asking her out because I believed she had a long-term boyfriend. Likewise, she didn’t think of me because she assumed I was married.
One chance conversation changed everything. She told me she’d broken up with her boyfriend. I volunteered that I’d gotten a divorce. “We should go out,” we said, and we did. We were married within a year, and the past two years have been the best of my life.
We are very comfortable together, but Maripat and I together is not the most remarkable aspect of our relationship. The most magical thing is the way she brought our two little tribes together and reconnected me with my own family, especially Cubby, Little Bear, and my mother. Those were things I could never have done on my own. At the same time, she wove us into a family unit with her two sons and her daughter. I had great fear and insecurity about stepkids—would they instinctively hate me? To my great relief, they welcomed me. Even her Imperial War Pug liked me. Dog people who know War Pugs say that’s rare and a sign of a good upbringing.
She began shaping us into a family with Sunday dinners. At first, the dinner group was just Maripat, her two sons, and me. Then the circle expanded to include Cubby and Kirsten, who were quick to return for tasty free food. For our first Christmas, she invited Little Bear, and they bonded right away. As the tradition developed, Maripat alternated the locations. Some weeks we’d eat in Amherst, other weeks we’d eat at her place. Everyone was welcome. Friends and neighbors joined us.
Today my relationship with Cubby is the best it’s been since he was little and I was still Wondrous Dada. Getting together every Sunday, and the interest Maripat’s shown in his life, have made all the difference.
When Maripat and her youngest son moved in with me in Amherst, things got better still. They’ve settled in, and the house has been transformed into a warm and friendly place. People notice and comment on the changes. There are flowers everywhere, and little rocks and statues. Keepsakes line the windowsills, and photos of our kids are on the mantels. Cubby’s old room has become a meditation studio. Bird feeders ring the yard, and the calls of woodland creatures are audible day and night. It’s a remarkable thing, the way she transformed this house.
Best of all, its superior engineering features remain fully intact, and the animals continue to recognize my dominion over the yard and grounds. You might say I made it functional and she made it peaceful.
Little Bear is now a regular too; she and Maripat have become best friends. I watched their relationship develop with a combination of wonder and unease, but it’s turned out very well for all of us. Little Bear and I had our differences that led us to divorce, but we also have much in common; and I suppose I should not be surprised that Maripat shares many interests with her too—like target shooting and edgy television shows.
My mother was next on the list. I had become estranged from her in recent years, so we didn’t have much to do with her at first. However, Maripat pushed me to be involved with her, and we tried inviting her to Sunday dinner. To my surprise, she came, and all of us had a good time. A few months later, we had dinner at a local restaurant. Strained as my relationship with her was, I could see everyone else was very happy at the new turn of events. Then my mother got sick and ended up in the hospital. Maripat went with me to see her and continued visiting on her own. As they got to know each other, they realized they shared interests in spirituality, poetry, and many other things. Little Bear also stood by my mother, and when my mother was recovering in a nursing home, she and Maripat cared for her together. It was as if they were meant to be friends, or perhaps Maripat and Little Bear are both the daughters my mother never had.
Maripat showed a tenderness and warmth while looking after my mother, something I have had a hard time doing because I’d become so alienated over the years. By her behavior she has reconnected my mother and me; that’s a wonderful thing.
She’s shown my son caring behaviors too, and I hope they help him in his life going forward.
Then there is my mother and Cubby. In the beginning chapters of this book I wrote about my mother and my son growing together twenty-some years ago. He was a toddler, learning to walk, and she was beginning to recover from her stroke. Afterward, when Cubby was self-propelled, he spent many enjoyable days helping GrandMargaret at her
house, next to the Bridge of Flowers in Shelburne Falls. Little Bear would leave him with her all day while she was at school. Like all things, that came to an end. Cubby started school. His mom and I got divorced. I moved. Cubby stopped seeing GrandMargaret except on special occasions.
Then Cubby grew up, and something changed. He missed his grandmother. At the same time, she became more disabled as she got older. Now she needs help around the house every day, and Cubby answered the call. He began going there once a week, then twice, and finally three days a week.
Over the past year Cubby got to know his grandmother as an adult. It’s been a good experience for both of them, especially my son. With her, he shows a kindness and consideration I’ve not seen him display with others. It’s the first time he’s had to take care of someone else. I guess that’s one of those key transitions: When we’re small, people take care of us, and when we get older, we take care of others.
With all the people Maripat has woven into the rich tapestry of our lives, it looks like all our kids will be there for us when we are old, but more important, we are here for one another now. That is a very special feeling that I’ve never known before.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Elder Robison lives with his family in western Massachusetts. His business, J E Robison Service, restores and services European motor vehicles. He has an active international speaking schedule and serves on many boards and committees, including the International Society for Autism Research, the Interagency Autism Coordinating Committee of the Department of Health and Human Services, and the science board of Autism Speaks. John is the author of two previous books, Look Me in the Eye and Be Different, which have been translated into many languages and are sold around the world. Find him online on Facebook, Twitter, and at www.johnrobison.com.
Find Jack Robison (Cubby) on Facebook or on the web at www.robison-industries.com.
John Elder Robison, Raising Cubby
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