I have known Percy for a number of years. He was always an odd-ball, never really fitting in anywhere, and he latched on to my family, a generally accepting bunch.
He invited himself for Easter this year but, to use the modern vernacular, after three days he totally “did my head in” and it was a blessed relief to see him go.
It was his OCD behaviour that got to me. Watching him make a cup of tea in the morning was like observing some arcane ritual of the Church of England; slow and precise with just the right tea-bag (de-caffeinated) and holy filtered water (from his own bottle). He drank it standing to attention, slice of toast (whole-grain) in the other hand, completely oblivious to the surrounding kitchen chaos.
Getting him into the car when we were already late was impossible. It took him fifteen minutes to get his shoes on, re-tying the laces several times to get them to the correct tension, then although everyone was already in he tried to re-arrange the car so that he had the most uncomfortable seat.
It was the Easter Sunday dinner that really did it for me. Now normally my hoard of gannets will be licking the gravy off their fingers after about four minutes. The wife, a respecter of old fashioned values, prolongs the meal to about fifteen minutes and insists that no one leave the table until all have finished.
But Percy, with a good plateful, chewed every mouthful twenty times (yes I did count) while we made desultory conversation as to what was the point of Tim Burton’s film Alice, and how the new Dr Who was a blessed return to a bit of fun after the self-indulgent messianic portrayal by Tennant. Finally, Percy laid his fork aside. Then some devilment came over me that I cannot explain; I asked him if he would like some more carrots, whereupon he took another five big juicy ones. Each halved, it took a further 200 steady, thoughtful mastications while the rest of us sank into sullen silence. I could feel the waves of hate emanating from the family while Percy remained completely oblivious that he was the only one still eating.
Married to a psychologist I now understand that Percy is somewhere on the Asperger spectrum. He has the classic symptoms of obsessive behavioural patterns and a complete lack of social awareness. His visits always leave me feeling profoundly guilty that I am not a more tolerant, caring person. But as he gets older and lonelier (his marriage long since ended and his children fled) his obsessive behaviour gets worse and living with him becomes a nightmare, even for a few days.
Tags: Asperger's
As someone who works in the field, I applaud your honesty. But don’t give up on people with Asperger’s just yet.