You have worked for years to make sure your autistic son is comfortable in his lovely suburban group home. He gets all his favorite foods, plenty of exercise, lots of outings and has his own pool table in the basement. On a sunny June day your son’s roommate has a medical emergency, and personnel are in and out of the house. So is your son. He goes for a walk by himself, down the usual path he takes with his aide. A neighbor’s new dog comes up and barks at him. Startled, he waves his arms and yells obscenities. People look out the window, and some passing kids on bikes laugh and yell at him. He makes a move to chase them, and the next thing you know, a police car arrives. The officer attempts small talk, and gets an unusual response. He exits the car and approaches. Your son, always fascinated with cop shows, sees the gun in the holster and wants to touch it. The next thing he knows, he is face down, handcuffed, and resisting arrest. When you get the phone call from the group home, you rush to the police station to calm your son and explain his situation. You are told you cannot see him, as he is over 18 years old and suspects are not allowed visitors. You can only imagine what is happening to him in the holding cell in the presence of actual criminals, and you hope like crazy he does not have a meltdown if the guards try to move him or there are any sudden noises. He has no guardian.

OR:

Your son is high functioning, has a spotless behavior record and is enrolled in college. You think that all the work you have done together to help him overcome his disability has paid off. All is good in both your worlds. He phones a local corporation as directed by his professor, inquiring about internships. He cannot get the information he wants in a timely fashion and gets caught in an autism “thought loop.” He calls repeatedly, becomes upset and says threatening things. One year later, he is incarcerated at a state prison. Your son was never violent, he never physically met his accusers, his perseveration frightened the person who took his calls, and the corporate lawyers handled the rest. While an inmate, he has been tased, hit over the head, and otherwise abused by jail personnel because, due to disability, he cannot filter his comments. He has celiac disease but not a proper diet so experiences bleeding. He cries every day and asks when he can go back to college. His life is over as far as you can see it. He has no guardian.

OR:

Your daughter is an amazing, gentle, talented writer and artist. It is your hope that she will make money in this regard. You live in a nice house in a cul-de-sac next to the woods; it is a beautiful and safe place. She will inherit the house; she is able to manage her life, can walk to the store, and can handle her checking account, pay bills, and cook. You have done all you can to educate her and make her capable of living virtually independently. You are there. Many years later, following your sudden decline and death from early onset Alzheimer’s, she lives alone in the house, walking through the woods at times to get food from the cheapest store. She writes all day and illustrates her stories at night. She keeps to herself, as she always has, so nobody ever knows that there is a 3’x7’ hole in the garage door she walks through sometimes (and so can anyone else.) She has run through all the cash left from life insurance. She paid all the bills for three years, and now utilities are being disconnected one by one. Taxes are owed on the house you left in your will (which she cannot find). The sewer backs up frequently in the basement. Her cousin always knew her as “that one who doesn’t like to be bothered,” but he still leaves her $20 from time to time at the bottom of her steps because he is unable to climb them. She is proud that she can live on $10 a week, that she saves water in containers to cook with, or wash her hair in the sink in case water services get turned off again. She has never had welfare, social security, or a job. She is entitled to SSI or SSDI, but even if she knew, she doesn’t know how to apply for it. To the system, she is nonexistent. Your daughter is now 61 years old, and in great physical shape when she has enough to eat. Social security tells us there is a 120-day waiting period to determine her case, and DPW requires her to get herself to the office in person, respond to interview questions, and then get a psychological evaluation, then wait even longer to get help. She could live another 20 or 30 years – but how? No guardian.