At 43 years old, married and a national cable-TV anchor, I still call my dad every evening to say good night — and that’s after having talked a few times during the day.

It’s because my dad is my best and was for a long time only friend.

When I was diagnosed in elementary school with what we now know to be autism, my father quit his job and became a full-time parent/coach/friend. It was, as he describes it, my only hope. He felt hopeless and helpless, with good reason.

The psychologist who tested me told him there’s “generally not” anything parents can do for kids in my situation, and it’s “difficult to understand” what’s going on in my head.

My dad’s mission to adapt me to the world rather than the world to me took him 15 years — to be fair, he’s still working on it. 5

I write a

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