Welcome to Holland

Everyone is dealt their own hand. I do believe what life bestows on you is somewhat predetermined. We all have an intended journey, however the paths we choose to get to the end are left up to free will. We all know life can be hard and finding the good in things can be extremely difficult. There is good in everything, though. You just have to be strong enough to search for it.

I have one sibling. A younger brother. Chronologically he's 30 years old, but mentally he's 8. He had a stroke at birth which led to a multitude of physical as well as emotional/psychological problems. This journey has been a rough one. We've probably taken many wrong paths along are way, but we are blessed enough that with each new day, brings a new choice of paths. It's so hard for anyone living outside of my family's world to understand the grief and the challenges, but it's also hard for people to see the gift we have been given.

The following prose was originally written by a woman named Emily Perl Kingsley, and I think no one could have done a better job of describing what the foundation of our life is like. I wanted to share it.

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

Yes, a loss it is, and there is grieving. There is grieving every day in different ways, by each member of our family. We have no choice, though, other then to keep going. Some moments brim over with Tulips and windmills and at other times the sky gets cloudy and it rains. We just have to tell ourselves, you can't have rainbows without rain.

Lost

Dear Mom and Dad,
I died today.
You got tired of me and took me to the shelter.
They were overcrowded and I drew an unlucky number.
I am in a black plastic bag in a landfill now.

Some other puppy will get the barely used leash you left.
My collar was dirty and too small,
but the lady took it off before she sent me to the Rainbow Bridge.

Would I still be at home if I hadn't chewed your shoe?
I didn't know what it was, but it was leather,
and it was on the floor. I was just playing.
You forgot to get puppy toys.

Would I still be at home if I had been housebroken?
Rubbing my nose in what I did
only made me ashamed that I had to go at all.
There are books and obedience teachers
that would have taught you
how to teach me to go to the door.

Would I still be at home if
I hadn't brought fleas into the house?
Without anti-flea medicine, I couldn't get them off of me
after you left me in the yard for days.

Would I still be at home if I hadn't barked?
I was only saying, "I'm scared,
I'm lonely, I'm here, I'm here! I want to be your best friend."

Would I still be at home if I had made you happy?
Hitting me didn't make me learn how.
Would I still be at home if you had taken the time
to care for me and to teach manners to me?
You didn't pay attention to me after the first week or so,
but I spent all my time waiting for you to love me.

I died today
Love,Your Puppy

We Begin

Maya Angelou said that "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." So here's mine. I've seen a lot of sun and I've weather a lot of storms. Some times I just want to lay in bed and cry. Sometimes I let it out onto paper with short stories and poetry. Occasionally I'll pick up one of my favorite books full of quotes, read the ones that I can relate to in the moment and find a bit of peace that there is some one out there who can put my feelings into words when I can't do it myself.

It's been quite the roller coaster, so sit down, buckle up and hold on tight.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,
I miss you. My heart is breaking. For 25 years you were my very best friend. I could and did tell you anything. I remember how people used to tease us because we were so close, and I kind of liked it because it only meant they were jealous of the solid bond we had. Do you remember when I was little and you had to work nights, so I never got to see you. So we made Tuesday our special day. I would go to dance class and then come home, curl up in your bed, while Dad slept in mine, and waited for you to come home.

Then when I got older you would drop me off at school in the mornings on your way to work, and I never wanted to get out of the car. You would send me to school with 2 quarters, one to call you at 8:30a.m. when you arrived at work and another for me to call you again at lunch time. Those days I would get out of the car and go around to the side of the school building and cry. I would cry for almost an hour until it was 8:30 and I could talk to you.

When I grew up and got a job, we would sneak into the bathrooms at work and call each other through out the day. When I had those problems at work I would call crying from that bathroom and you would tell me to be strong, that I was a better person than they were because I wouldn't play their games. You could always calm me down enough that I could go back into my classroom with my head held high, knowing that I was a good person. I was a good teacher.

Remember when I met R and I started spending more of my time with him. You were jealous and I was torn. We adapted, though. That's when you pretended to be interested in my painting and signed us up for weekly classes. Every Monday night we would drive an hour into the country to the closest studio to us. I would sit and do my work while you sat next to me making your sarcastic comments and completely destroying any piece of art that was in front of you. I don't remember why we stopped doing that. The studio is gone now. They turned it into a thrift store.

You stood up for me no matter what. When it was time for me to step outside and begin carving a life of my own you supported me even though I knew you were hurting. I remember when you and I and Dad were standing in the kitchen and Dad and I were arguing because he didn't believe I should move in with R because we weren't married. I knew you had the same beliefs, but you stood by me and told Dad to let me go.

Remember that day I came home crying. You were upstairs sitting on your bed paying bills. I sat down next to you and between sobs told you that I was pregnant. You looked at me and asked me what I wanted to do. You hid my secret from Dad for weeks. Then you, the woman who was raised a strict Catholic and attended church three times a week came with me to hold me up when I went to the clinic and had an abortion. Never once did you yell. Never once did you criticize. Never once did you judge me. You only loved me.

A couple years later, you helped me to plan the wedding you didn't think I should go through with. I knew the way you felt, because I knew you too well, but you never said a word. Instead you dove in and helped me plan every last detail. After the ceremony you went home, sat on my bed and cried.

If it hadn't been for you, when R left I would have died. I would have literally died. You held me up. You fought for me when I couldn't fight for myself. You carried me through the blackness for a year until you were finally able to bring me back into the light.

Then I strayed. I stumbled and fell off the right path and onto one that would only lead to heartache and destruction. I know you would have pulled me back had you known, but by the time I came to you the pills had already consumed my life. I did terrible things to get the fix I thought I needed and in the process shattered everything that we had. I lied to you and I stole from you and I pushed you out of my life. I lost the most important thing I had ever had in my life.

Now we walk on egg shells around each other. Me longing for that bond back and you telling me it would never be the same. These days when we're together we sit side by side in silence. I tell you I love you and the only thing I hear back is whatever is on the television. I know it was my fault. I know the destruction I created. I would give anything to take it back. I'm lonely and I'm scared and every day that passes like this is one less day we will have together. I'm sorry. I know I can't say that enough and I know that they are only words but I don't know what else to do. I need you. My life is so empty without you. I know how badly you're hurting and I would give anything to be able to comfort you the way you had always comforted me. I'm sorry Mom. Please remember that no matter what happens I will always love you. I love you more than the moon and the stars and the sun.

With more love than you will ever know,
A

Dogs are angels with four paws.