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My Mother's Wisdom 

BY SAM FARMER

Simply put, my objective in life has always been to be happy and successful in whatever I do. I feel as though I have attained that goal largely because of my parents' efforts, from the beginning, at helping me move forward. How my parents, and particularly my mother, helped me move forward, contributed to the kind of person I have become: resilient, wise, hardworking, optimistic, and good at heart.

Shortly after my mother passed away, one of her dearest friends said all that needed to be said in just a few words: "Sam, there could not have been a better mother in the world for you than your mom." It takes a guiding hand that is strong, intelligent, loving, and unwavering to effectively help somebody through the kinds of challenges and struggles that I have faced, and that kind of guiding hand, without question, belonged to my mother. Several aspects of her personality and parenting style account for why she contributed to my long-term success and happiness more than anybody else. She laid the foundation on which I was able to build a life for myself while also helping me through that building process.

My mother's unsurpassed abilities at connecting with and understanding other people were of critical importance to me from the start. To this day, I remain in awe of how she managed to figure out on her own that I had special needs and challenges when I was only two years old. It was my great fortune to have a mother who understood the urgency of taking immediate action once she figured out what she did and who wholeheartedly committed herself to a mission from which nothing in the world could distract her.

Hard work, good teachers, lots of guidance from my mother around how I could compensate for my learning difficulties, my mother's advocacy efforts in the schools and being held back a year enabled me to make great strides during my elementary school years. English, particularly reading comprehension, was my greatest academic challenge at the time. In retrospect, it made perfect sense that I struggled with this subject, considering that my learning disability is one of auditory perception, and given my Asperger's profile. My difficulties around processing information from my surroundings and the resultant disconnect from others that I often felt logically had an adverse effect on how I comprehended themes, main ideas, and the characters in stories and books. My mother understood all of this very well and made sure that I received plenty of help in this area. Her efforts paid off, as was evidenced by how well I managed to do in fifth grade with a teacher who, as I'll never forget, greatly emphasized reading books and writing reports about them over every other subject. My mother never told me outright, but it would not surprise me if she had something to do with my placement with this teacher, knowing in advance that my reading comprehension and writing skills would improve while in her classroom.

My mother's devotion to my advancement was not only with respect to my education. 

Starting at age ten, I was sent to sleepaway camps that offered developmental opportunities for kids with special needs for two months or so each summer. Spending time away from home and my family each year helped instill in me a strong sense of independence, which would prove invaluable as I worked to address my challenges. I discovered many new pursuits that otherwise would have eluded me and was able to cultivate existing interests. I enjoyed levels of freedom that simply were not possible during the school year. Consequently, my self-esteem was helped at a critical time in my life when I was contending with self-esteem- compromising challenges around self-absorption and social unawareness. My mother's efforts to set me up for success continued when she chose private school for my middle and high school years. Smaller class sizes, the availability of after-school extra help, and a highly regarded perceptual training program for students with unique challenges made a tremendous difference with respect to academic achievement. Furthermore, there was a well-enforced honor code in place, which kept most of us relatively well behaved. Not once did I get bullied throughout my seven years at this school, despite my social competency-related deficits. 

Not every mother knows where to draw the line between constructive and destructive criticism, but my mom knew. She understood that I was hypersensitive when it came to being judged, corrected, or reprimanded. She knew when to bite her tongue, which battles were or were not worth fighting, when to let go, and when to allow me to learn from my own mistakes, in my own way, and in my own time. She put in place a culture within our family whereby my father and brothers learned to treat me as she did. Antisocial behaviors and missed social cues that she felt I could not control were, for the most part, not called out. She had a strong sense of humor, an integral part of her parenting style that created a safe and inviting atmosphere in which I could be myself without negative consequence. My quirky or idiosyncratic habits were never ridiculed, only subject to what could be called "safe teasing," whereby my brothers and parents would laugh with me rather than at me and imitate these habits as a way of showing that I was accepted by them for who I was. It was all about preserving my self-esteem, which, due to the baggage connected to my learning disability (and undiagnosed Asperger's profile), was quite fragile.

My mom's protective instincts resulted in my not being disciplined for what many would consider a number of discipline-worthy incidences. On parents' visiting day at sleepaway camp one year, she gave me an enthusiastic hello and a big smile, followed by my saying to her, verbatim, "You've gained weight!" No rebuke from her or my dad, and the remainder of the day proceeded well, as if I had never said what I had. In fifth grade, the highly anticipated day arrived for my interview with the dean of admissions at the private school that my mom wanted me to attend, and I said, in my often brutally honest tone, "I don't want to go here; I don't like it here," or something along those lines. I will never be able to explain what led to my gutter attitude that day, though yet again, my mother did not discipline me (not surprisingly, years later, when we were reminiscing about this incident, she admitted that I nearly gave her a heart attack). What I would give to  know what she said to the dean of admissions that resulted in my acceptance, in spite of my obnoxious comments. In most cases, I'm sure that this kind of behavior would at least be called out, if not harshly punished, but she knew me well and was wise enough to understand that doing so would have been more destructive than constructive. For that kind of wisdom, I will always be grateful to her. My mom was exceptional at striking a balance between hands-on and hands-off parenting. She understood the importance of compromise, of give-and-take, and of allowing me to make decisions but not without considering the potential consequences beforehand. If kids in the neighborhood were outside playing and I was inside, I heard about it from her and was strongly encouraged to participate; however, I was allowed to opt out if I so desired. As far as the special-needs summer camps were concerned, she chose these camps but left it up to me to decide how many summers I would go to each one. Starting in the summer after my eighth grade year, she allowed me to choose where I would go. During my later high school years, when my passion for music peaked, I told myself that I would leave my high school and attend an arts academy for senior year, and I became convinced that I belonged at a music school as far as college was concerned. Thankfully, my mom got through to me and brought me back down to earth, not by telling me to forget about it or by putting the matter to rest some other way but instead by encouraging me to think carefully about these choices before making a decision. She asked me to consider how I would feel leaving my friends and the school I had been at and loved for six years just before graduating. Knowing deep down that she knew what she was talking about, and respecting her opinions on these matters, I chose to listen to her. I remained where I belonged for my senior year, attended a highly rated liberal arts college with an elite music school, and graduated with the degree in music that I always wanted.

And so it was from my mother that I learned the importance of surrounding myself with smart, caring people and taking their advice and wisdom to heart. She knew me better than I knew myself during these formative years. She understood my strengths and vulnerabilities and tailored her parenting style accordingly. In hindsight, I find it remarkable that I was allowed to make as many of my own choices as I did, considering all of my challenges. Evidently, she knew that the way forward for me required that I be given enough latitude to find my own path with some but not too much oversight. Only when it mattered most, when the stakes were relatively high, or when I turned to her for support, did she get involved, and she did so with love and conviction, in a way that somehow achieved the proper result far more often than not. Granted what I was up against while growing up, there truly could not have been a better mother in the world for me than my mom.•

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

SAM FARMER

Sam Farmer wears many hats, among these, father, husband, musician, computer consultant, and autism spectrum community contributor. A resident of Easton, Massachusetts with a late diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome, he writes blogs and articles, records coaching videos, and presents at conferences and support groups, sharing stories, ideas and insights as to how one can achieve greater happiness and success in life despite facing challenges and adversity which often interfere in these pursuits. A Long Walk Down a Winding Road — Small Steps, Challenges, & Triumphs Through an Autistic Lens is his first book.