Memories of Ben

He’s ten years old  
Pokemon hyper-focused  
Quoting statistics I can’t comprehend  
All I can remember is Pikachu  
While he’s all over it  
Glued to the television set  
Eyes alight with childlike joy  
Consumed by an obsession  
I just nod and agree with  
Lost somewhere in the upgrades  
 
And it’s all about red cars  
Specifically convertibles  
Counting every one we pass  
His hands pressed against  
The car window in delight  
Which is better than the constant  
“Are we there yet?”  
When he’s bored and un-stimulated  
We can’t forget it’s all about Ben  
 
And I’ve never seen someone devour  
The matrix of a puzzle with such mastery  
500 pieces in under an hour  
Laid out in perfection  
On the living room floor  
And I’m in awe  
While he’s chattering away  
In the never ending stream of ideas  
That burst forth from his consciousness  
 
Tears and screams of frustration  
They’ve interrupted his flow  
And he can’t understand why  
Someone needs to be watching  
Anything that isn’t Dragon Ball Z  
In his time slot, his routine  
The very flow he gets mad at  
When the programs don’t match the TV guide  
That he pours over like it’s his religion  
 
And it saddens me that no one has the time  
Or the energy to sit and listen to the talk  
About anime and Angelina Jolie movies  
When he never slows down to take a breath  
Echo’s of, “Shut up Ben…” reverberating  
When he just wants to share his fascinations  
And have someone be as excited as he is  
 
So I often sit with him, drained  
Feigning interest in Pokemon  
At times wondering how I have the patience  
When his family just drop him off  
In front of the television screen  
Like it will solve the issue of Ben and his autism  
 
Disgusted, I watch avoidable fights  
And when the calm's rolled over the house  
I take a tired breath and get him talking Yu-Gi-Oh  
Pulling the cards out, I’m oh’ing and ah’ing  
Admiring the artwork, which I have to admit  
Is pretty damn cool  
It’s easy to be interested when
It’s something we have in common  
Though he likes it for the game, and I like it for the magic  
If I could’ve kept up with his thought process  
I might have learnt something useful  
 
Nine years later and I can still picture his face  
Remember the chatter and the holes in the walls  
The wonderful way he’d get so excited  
By the simplicity of life  
That I couldn’t help but smile  
At the dead bugs in a jar he kept as pets  
Talking to them with so much love in his eyes  

And I’ll never forget the time I managed to stump  
His wonderful puzzle know-how  
When I bought him a holographic 3D puzzle  
For his eleventh birthday  
 
Time changes everything though I have to laugh  
That some things never change.  
He’s all grown up now  
Over 6ft tall and slightly terrifying  
His mind still chasing after red convertibles  
And drooling over Angelina Jolie  
With a wicked memory for stats  
That I wouldn’t want to contend with  
Now he’s completing 1000 piece puzzles  
In under an hour  
 
© Indie Adams 2012