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 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 guidebooks. 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.
6 comments:
I wouldn't mind living in Holland... a bit more relaxed and nice and flat - perfect for cycling everywhere!
the thing is I've always wanted to go to Italy...
For some strange reason there's a bunch of people who assume I'm Italian, whereas the majority of my adult life has been decidedly Dutch. But one thing I like about being Dutch is that even if life feels relatively Italian (which for it is right now) you never stop being a Hollander. Which comes in handy when you meet other Dutch people with their noses stuck in the Italian guidebooks. Its then that you realise that when it comes to things Dutch, you are the guidebook they need.
i think you hit the nail on the head in your last paragraph. I love that thought, to quote you:
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.
as they say, if life hands you lemons, make lemonade.
This is beautiful. My grandson has taken us to Holland when we expected Italy. He is different, but absolutely wonderful. We have learned to let Italy go, and enjoy this unexpected destination.
I heard this story for the first time and could not stop crying. This explains exactly how I felt when my son was diagnosed with high functioning autism. It's so beautiful and eloquent.
Post a Comment