I am the older sister of a 45 year-old man with intellectual disabilities and autism. He’s well-known and much beloved in the community because he’s just a happy, social guy. His name is Charlie.
Charlie has participated in the Special Olympics since he was a preteen. He has worked at Futures Rehabilitation Center — except for a brief timeout — since he was 16. Charlie is outgoing and makes friends easily, has a shy smile, loves music and is a walking encyclopedia of college and professional sports statistics.
He does live Facebook dance parties. He lives for his friends and family. If he calls you his friend, it is heartfelt and it is forever. Loyalty isn’t just something he strives for; it is his very life’s blood.
The coronavirus pandemic has been extremely hard on Charlie. Special Olympics events were canceled for the year, Futures closed until just a short while ago and social interactions with friends and family have been on hold. It has been very hard to explain to him why these restrictions have been necessary.
Charlie is severely diabetic, too, and greatly at risk of complications or even death if he were to contract COVID-19. His girlfriend has COPD. They didn’t see each other for three months. Until Wednesday of this week, Charlie has seen only me and my husband, with whom he resides; his girlfriend, on two occasions, for socially distant lunches; and his two grown nephews.
On March 19, we began the stay-at-home order. For 113 days and counting, I have managed to keep him safe from the possibility of contracting the virus. Every time we go out — to the bank drive-thru or to the grocery store — we wear our masks to keep him safe. Once a week, he accompanies us. He’s clumsy, but he gets his mask on every time he leaves the house. He says, “I don’t want anyone to get the coronavirus. My mask protects everybody in case I am sick.”
Imagine that, a guy who is intellectually impaired and who is, most of the time, an 8-year-old, understands how masks work. Furthermore, he cares so much about everyone else: his family, his friends and perfect strangers (who he regards as opportunities for NEW friendships) that he puts on his mask.
It’s hot. It fogs up his glasses. It’s a little restrictive. But since he cares about everyone, he puts it on without protest.
I’m not sure how I can explain, in a way he can understand, that some others don’t care about him. I’m not sure how to make him understand that those people — some of them people he holds in high regard and considers friends — think that wearing a mask infringes upon their “rights” and that this virus is a “hoax.” He worried about a childhood friend who recently spent six weeks in the hospital — three of them on a ventilator — while he fought COVID-19. He understands that it could have been, could BE, him. He gets it. I don’t know how to explain to my little brother, a true friend to all, that the people he calls “friend” don’t care if he gets sick. Or dies.
If anyone has any suggestions, I’d love to hear them.
(Lori Bebko lives in Bradford.)
