08/01/2025
I’m autistic, and when I was maybe 8 years old, my dad pulled me out of school for two or three days to take me to the Legoland theme park in Carlsbad, CA.
It wasn’t a reward for good behavior or personal success - my relationship with school had really started to fall apart, and my social life was only hanging on by a thread.
No, it was an act of compassion - a lifeline, if you will. My dad saw that I was gasping for air & flailing about in a world that wasn’t built for people like me.
He could well have turned up the heat & tried to force my round peg into the square hole of a typical childhood. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Instead, he showed up to my classroom at 10 AM one day, pulled me out of class, & all but told me we were gonna play hooky.
We took the drive down to Carlsbad & stayed at a hotel that had a private entrance to the park. Better still, because it was a school week, we had the park almost entirely to ourselves.
The memories we made will last the rest of my life.
My teacher made a big fuss to my parents about what he did (you better believe I bragged to my peers about skipping class for legoland)… but looking back, that two-day vacation was the brightest moment of an pretty bleak childhood.
Fast forward a couple decades to today. I started my trip from Pattaya, Thailand to San Diego about 7 hours ago - and I still have another 20 ahead of me.
I’m tired, sweaty, & sore from the cab ride & sitting around for hours just to check in for my flight. I’m feeling absolutely defeated & filled with dread.
Once again - I was thrown a lifeline, in the form of the business class lounge I’m writing this from - in particular, its shower facilities.
My dad knew I had a rough & cramped flight on the way out & offered to spring for an upgrade - comfort I had no right to expect.
I’d never taken a shower at an airport before, but as I was toweling myself off, I thought back to those two perfect days in Carlsbad.
If you feel see someone drowning in life, do what you can to offer them a lifeline. It doesn’t take as much as you’d think to rekindle a bit of hope - and they’ll never forget it.