Stephen's 11th B'day. Bittersweet for me...

Stephen’s 11th birthday was the day after Christmas. Just look at that picture up there, doesn’t he look happy? Well, he is happy. Stephen is one of the happiest children you’ll ever meet. After spending almost 10 years of my life around mentally challenged people, I’ve noticed for the most part, they all have a unique ability to be very happy in spite of their circumstances and overwhelming obstacles. I sometimes envy that ability. On parenting a mentally challenged child, I have to say that it’s had it’s ups and downs. Sort of like a roller coaster . Sometimes, I feel that it is more of a challenge for me than for Stephen. To him, everything is normal. Because, it’s all he knows. He doesn’t know the hopes and dreams that I had for him while he was growing inside me. He doesn’t know that I already had his piano teacher chosen. He doesn’t know the school he was suppose to attend. He doesn’t know what team his father dreamed he’d play football for. He doesn’t know the dozens of books I read to prepare myself for parenting. Books that I wasted my time reading, and eventually donated them to charity. They do not apply to him, or to us. Since he was born, little by little I noticed he was different. With much guidance from other parents of challenged children, teachers and doctors, I have a whole new childrearing library with book titles like, “What to do when your child is challenged.” I know it sounds silly, but for years, I held onto the misconception that he’d grow out of it. Each birthday, being a reminder that this is how it‘s going to be. Always. Each year, I realize more and more that he won’t grow out of it. I know now that this is false hope, or denial. I’ve spent most of these 11 years trying to find a cure, a miracle or a way to bring him out of it. Instead, I should have been searching for a way to accept it. I’m learning that acceptance is something that comes with time. Even after this long, I still find myself in a state of shock at times. His birthday is supposed to be a happy occasion. And for him it is. To me, it’s a reminder of the way things were supposed to be. But I am slowly but surely accepting it. It’s a daily struggle. But a struggle that has been worth every step. His innocence, smile, laughter and unconditional love is what makes it possible.  Along with daily prayer...and a story that I almost know by heart. (below)