A mother writes about the positives (and trials) of raising a son with special needs.
I look at my son, Brennan, and I smile some days, cry on others.
Brennan is like many other little boys: that is, suffice to say, he loves to play with his toy cars or trucks, color in his coloring books, eat fried "chinny" for dinner, watch the cartoons on our DVD's, and have me or PaPaw read to him. He laughs when he is happy, cries when scolded or unhappy; he lets his true feelings be known.
Yet in so many ways, he is very different. You see, Brennan is sixteen, not five.
Brennan has Down's syndrome. He was born with mental and physical disabilities that affected his very way of learning, of living in a world not geared for his specific handicaps. Brennan was born with an extra chromosome in his body, and this is what made him the way he is. He has the typical physical features of a child with Down's syndrome, and he also has some serious health issues that have kept him homebound.
He has heart problems that are quite sreious (he's had four surgeries already, faces another one in a few months), he has bad asthma and allergies that have landed him in the Children's Hospital here in town, and he is often very sick. He doesn't go to public school; instead, he is homeschooled by my husband and myself; we prefer it this way. This way, we can keep an eye on him most of the time so he doesn't get into trouble.
I don't want the other kids laughing at him; unfortunately, this isn't always so. Whenever we go out in public, people stare or make terrible comments, and yet Brennan remains blissfully unaware. When others tease him, he doesn't understand this; instead he thinks it is a game when the other kids imitate him or call him names. He laughs right along with them, and if they make faces at him, he makes the same faces right back at his tormentors.
Each and every time, my heart is stabbed because I know that what the kids are doing to my son is wrong, and it husts me as a mother and protector. I don't want my son thinking that all people are nice, because this couldn't be further from the truth. There are many nasty-spirited people in the world, and I have problems dealing with them, particularly when they tease my son.
Even with all the drawbacks that raising a child with special needs brings to the family, Brennan is still a delightful child who wouldn't hurt a flea. He has a gentle, good-natured personality; nothing much gets him down. When he is unhappy, it breaks my heart because I am not used to seeing him sad or unhappy. It goes against his nature, and besides, it isn't good for his delicate medical condition. Whenever he gets mad, I am scared he'll have a heart attack or something.
Brennan is known for one thing, and that just isn't when he is participating in the Special Olympics each and every year. He is known for his world-class hugs that I have come to call his "angel-hugs" because when you have been hugged by my son, you know you have been hugged. He'll waltz up to a complete stranger in his ambling way of walking, and he'll say "Wuv 'ou, lady", "Wuv 'ou, man" in his surprisingly deep voice, and you can't help but smile. It is precious; it warms my heart each and every time he does this.
I am trying to teach my son that not all people want to be hugged, and that hugging at the wrong time or the wrong place is not acceptable, yet Brennan doesn't see this. He thinks all people need a hug, and so in his way, he goes about his business, fulfulling his wishes of making people happy. That is all he is doing, but people often don't see it this way.
Instead, they see a teenaged boy who should be playing sports or studying for his upcoming TAKS tests or dating; unfortunately, due to Brennan's disabilities, he'll never get to do any of these things. He's in special needs classes, and he will probably always need someone at his side, in case he should get sick again or wind up back in the hospital with his heart.
Each day with Brennan is a gift, and it is a miracle that he has lived this long. Doctors didn't give him much hope of survival when he was born sixteen years ago, but he has grown into a handsome young man with blondish hair, brown eyes that sparkle with innocence, and a smile that could melt your heart. Yes, he may be handicapped to most people, but to us, he is absolutely prefect; he is our Angel-Boy, our very reason for living.
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Reviewed by d. k
4/5/2007
This young lad reminded me of the special little boy I worked with in the kindergarten class years ago. He was such a delightful young fella. The children took to him immediately, always wanting to help him. It was most pleasurable to see the acceptance of this boy with Downs Syndrome. He was a joy to work with throughout the school term! Thanks for the memory. I hope he is always well accepted by others. They are very special indeed. Great write!
Karen I could not tell him to stop trying to give love although I know many do not understand. Isn't it so wonderful the way God creates, He knows exactly what He is doing and why.
Continued enlightenment to you always,
From the Heart of an Artist...
Warm and wonderful write that gives all the warm fuzzies and yes a perfect title as well. Thank you teaching us so much in these types of writes Karen,
Angel Hugs from Poppy Bear
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...this is a most precious story! Heartwarming; tenderly told; filled with love, smiles and compassion (and even a little sadness). One of your best: well done!
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