Dear child who will never be “normal,”
I love you. Let me say that first, because it is the most important. I love you as you are. As you grow and change, or if you stay the same, or if you lose the abilities you have now, I love you.
I will love you if you can never write your name on a line, on a page, that is supposed to contain the content of what you’ve learned. But your learning can never be contained on a page.
You’ve learned to smile with brightness that expands the hearts of the weary. You’ve learned to endure the countless poking and prodding or your body and your mind and your spirit. You’ve learned to inspire others in ways a “normal” child could not.
And you could write many pages with all you’ve taught as well. You’ve taught unconditional love. The priorities of family over fortune, laughter over lists, and patience over particulars. The beauty of difference.
But I know that sometimes it hurts to feel different.
But here’s the truth.
There is no normal.
God has created each and every person differently. There is no one like you. There is no one like me. There is no one like the girl who thinks she is like everyone else and that you are not.
It may seem like normal is going to class instead of a movement break. Like learning to read instead of learning your name. Like laughing with friends instead of walking with your aide. But just because it’s more common does not mean it’s more normal.
You are you. Normally and eternally you. I don’t want you to be common, do common, or feel common.
I just want you to be you.
And I just want you to be here.
You taught me the value of living life with whatever it throws our way. And if that’s movement breaks, aides, and therapies or if it’s feeding tubes, diapers, and wheelchairs, then that is a blessed way to live.
Because you are here. And you are you.
And I love you just the way you are.
The mom who is thankful every morning that we’ve all woken up
Dear “normal” child and “normal” parent,
Please see letter above and discuss.