Blog with HOPe

By Paula kavolius

Whoever wrote, “absence makes the heart grow fonder” knew exactly what they were talking about.  After three weeks at his new residential placement, Timmy came home for Thanksgiving.  I can honestly say, I don’t recall ever having such joy in our home.  Maybe it was because his older brother came home from his first year at college.  Maybe it was because we all had our first three weeks of sleep since Timmy was born. Maybe it was because my knee and tooth surgeries were over. Or, maybe, just maybe, it was because the giant hole in my heart was plugged, even if temporarily. 

The day our children are born we are forever changed.  They are a part of us and we are a part of them. When Max Planck, physicist and Nobel Prize winner for his study of the atom, accepted his award he said "As a man who has devoted his whole life to the most clear-headed science, to the study of matter, I can tell you as the result of my research about atoms this much: There is no matter as such! All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force which brings the particles of an atom to vibration and holds this most minute solar system of the atom together. . . We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent mind. This mind is the matrix of all matter." 

Planck knew that, all science aside, who and how the mind chooses to love is the center of our universe. 

So what happens if one of our children is born less than perfect?  Do we love them more? All of us enjoy a good “Horatio Alger” tale where one comes from nothing and turns his life into something remarkable or a story of an “underdog” who is the unlikely winner, yet triumphs in the end. Does the hope for that outcome draw us closer to them? 

The truth is I don’t think we love them more, but we do root for them and celebrate their tiny successes more. As strange as it sounds, the fact that Timmy turned on the light and shut the door when he went to the bathroom was better than me hitting the lottery.  The fact that he grabbed a cup and poured himself some juice made me want to call the Boston Globe. As a parent of a child with significant challenges, every fiber of your being is dedicated to helping them succeed. Only this time, I didn’t do it, he did.  He showed me that I did the right thing.  He showed me that he can learn and grown without me and come home and dance with me. 

Have any of you allowed your child to show you the way?