The “R” word

I’ll admit, I’ve said it.  More than once.

When I was a kid we used to make fun of those kids that were, you know..different.  “Slow.” When Timothy received his diagnosis I immediately thought, well, this is what I get.  Its karma.  God’s twisted sense of humour.  For a long time, I felt guilty. 

Its difficult to grasp, until the vines of such a thing snake around your heart.  Until its your kid. Cause it hurts like hell.

Last weekend we were at a McDonald’s with a play place while Casey was at a birthday party.  Timothy was enjoying the climbers while Skylar and I had a bite to eat.  I could hear his screeches and funny noises through the glass.  His happy shrieks.  He was busy flapping at a plastic toy attached to the structure.  Two women were sitting inside.  I noticed them cringing, and then one leaned over to the other and whispered in her friends ear.  She pointed at Timothy.  My blood began to boil.  I walked in through the glass   partition.  I smiled sweetly at them both.  And then I said hello to my son.  When I turned on my heel to go back to my seat, I could feel their eyes on me.  Point made.  They left shortly after.

I figure that my purpose in life is not only to re-program myself, but to teach others about acceptance.  Because you see, getting angry isn’t enough.  Being the difference IS.  Be the change you want to see.  Inspire others to change.



One thought on “The “R” word

  1. I was that kid too. Not mean, just uneducated and we used the “r” word flippantly. I wish I could go back and acknowledge that they were kids, just like us. Having Isaac, knowing his differences but also the similarities, I am frightened about how uncaring/unaware/ignorant people might hurt him.

    So far our encounters have mostly been with children asking what is wrong with him, why does he flap like that, why doesn’t he talk, why does he crawl like that…and so far they have all been genuine questions from children seeking to understand so it’s a nice opportunity talk about his differences and then about similarities and they are so accepting.

    I’m not sure how I will handle adults, or mean children…

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