CHAPTER 84

2025-09-05 (DOB of Victoria)

Families raising children with special needs often have to accommodate their needs for both overall and individual life and growth, especially for the younger child.

Caring for a child with special needs can strain parents' mental and physical energy for extended periods, until adequate support arrives and they can return to a more normal life. Frequently having to respond to unexpected situations often puts them in a state of nervous tension.

Economically, it's difficult for both parents to work at the same time. Often, the mother stays home to care for the children, leaving the father shouldering the financial burden alone. This often leads to illnesses from overwork, and the physical, mental, and financial strain on both parents.

If Lun is the second child, his older brother or sister will likely take on some of the care and supervision responsibilities after his birth. This gives us an extra helper, and the dynamics of family dynamics change dramatically.

The reality is that Lun, as the eldest son and grandson, had no other children to compare him to, so his differences weren't immediately apparent. Before he was two, our family of three immigrated to Canada. Unfamiliar with the new environment, we unconsciously focused on adapting to the new life. When Lun was four when life had settled, he was diagnosed with autism.

His younger brother, six years Lun's junior, was born. We were already accustomed to caring for Lun wholeheartedly, but he became increasingly difficult to care for, crying frequently. With the addition of a younger brother, we habitually shared the responsibility of caring for both children.

Our mental state was strategic, focusing on determining whether our younger son was a child with special needs. Once confirmed not, we split up: I cared for Lun, while my wife cared for the younger son. Namm ‘s survival response was to ignore everything and sleep, even thunder and lightning wouldn't wake him. Whenever something happened, he instinctively "moved" away and found his own activities.

In reality, the siblings are naturally gentle, docile, quiet, and inactive. Their long, slender fingers suggest they are cultured, and they approach things slowly and methodically, with limited physical capacity, a legacy inherited from their mother. They aren't bad people, and their bad deeds are not that bad.

My interactions with Namm are primarily focused on preventing chaos, using authority and clear instructions. This approach is cost-effective, minimizing effort and restoring peace as quickly as possible. This approach is clearly effective, but it also has side effects.

Both of them are afraid of me. The difference is that I give Lun plenty of space, while I'm strict with Namm. He is naturally introverted and has lacked interaction with children his age. He lacks knowledge and application of social skills. His father's assertiveness provides more of an intimidating presence than a source of inspiration or guidance. Over time, he becomes increasingly passive when faced with new situations, challenges, and demands, and in moments of crisis, he quickly freezes, becoming stiff and mute.

My wife saw the situation and warned me that this approach wasn't working. I needed to thaw our relationship to prevent it from collapsing when he entered his teenage rebellious phase. I agreed. She suggested I tell more jokes to him and encourage a lighthearted interaction. After changing my strategy, my "diplomacy" was reestablished, and my son's warmth gradually warmed up. A complete thaw took until he graduated from university.