This is Dianna. I am nearing 20 years of age, but I had to sit down and tell you about my family.
My family is unique in a lot of ways. First of all, my parents. They are only in their 30s, but their passion for handicapped children runs deep inside their veins and in their hearts. They had 3 kids of their own, but then two of their kids took sick and then died, and one had died of SIDS at the age of 6 days. They were heartbroken and devastated at their loss, but then they decided to adopt kids nobody else would ever consider adopting--kids who were considered "unadoptable" because of age, race, ethnic background, or disability. Or those kids who belonged to a sibling group and could not be separated for some reason or another. Second of all, my brothers and sisters. We range in age from 1 1/2 to 21 years, and a lot of the kids are disabled in one way or another. But we are still brothers and sisters, and nobody can ever change that!!
We are also unique just because of the sheer SIZE of our family. There are 50 kids in my family, with 46 of them still living at home. (I live a few streets away, in an apartment complex for disabled adults. I live with my sister, Melizza.) Most of these kids have heartbreaking handicaps, and two (Johnny and Rhiannon) are terminally ill. (Johnny has Duchenne's muscular dystrophy, and Rhiannon has cystic fibrosis. Both diseases are fatal.) And three (Roberto, Jodie, and Todd) are BOTH physically and mentally handicapped, and two out of the three have severe brain damage.
And a lot of the kids come from foreign lands. Africa. Mexico. South (or Central) America. Iran. Vietnam. Japan. Korea. Bosnia. France. Germany. India. Malaysia. And some come from the United States, from the states of Louisiana, Texas, Ohio, Indiana, Tennessee, and Utah (which is where both my brother, Richard, and I come from). But most of the kids were born in other countries.
I get along with most of my brothers and sisters with little or no problem, but they DO get out of hand at times (what kid doesn't?). They DO have their moments where mischief reigns supreme, but, for the most part, they are good, well-behaved kids who know right from wrong. I really don't have a problem with my siblings, in other words.
Now that I am away from home, I DO have to admit that I miss my brothers and sisters; but at least I can go there whenever I want if I want to do my laundry or have a good, home-cooked meal. (Mom is a GREAT cook; her Cajun dishes are FANTASTIC!! Daddy's no slouch either, when it comes to cooking.) I also can trust them to tell them my problems, and know that they are good, caring people who care about me and what I am going through. I also know that they have good hearts, and that they only want what they feel is best for us kids. What I DON'T miss, however, is when a kid sticks his stinky, dirty feet in my face (Richard was FAMOUS for doing that; that was GROSS!!), or when a kid throws up all over me when they suddenly got sick. Or when the toddlers threw a fit in a store or at the local Golden Corral.
I also miss mom's special perfume (she wears either hibiscus or magnolia scent, and on her it smells absolutely DIVINE!!), and I miss daddy's crazy, high-pitched cackle. I also miss grandpa Armand's jokes (they CAN get a tad dirty, but I know he is harmless) and grandma's big bear hugs. I also miss sharing a room with Dwerlina, who is now living (and working) in Lafayette, Louisiana, where she is attending Louisiana State-Lafayette. I also miss seeing Lightning, who now lives in Colorado, near Colorado Springs, where she is busily raising her young family. (She has 3 kids, two boys and a girl.)
I was home last year for Christmas, and it was a lot better than the Christmas of before because my little sister, Ronee', had suffered a stroke; and there was talk of the possibility of her dying; but somehow she survived; and I ended up staying a few extra weeks, just to help out (and that is NOT easy, since I am blind. [I became blind at the age of 12; a glass beaker exploded in my face in science class]). Ronee' has since fully recovered from her stroke; the ONLY effect she has is she still experiences some numbness in her right hand; but she can move and usse it with no problems whatsoever. Other than that, she is still the same giggling, efferdescent, happy-go-lucky kid she's always been. To look at her today, you wouldn't even know she's even HAD a stroke, she looks that good!!
But people still ask me even now whenever they see pictures of my family how I feel with the fact that there are kids of color in my family, or kids with red or yellow or tan skin; and I tell them it doesn't bother me because, for one thing, I've never actually SEEN my family. I don't know what they look like, only how they sound or smell or talk. But I know for a fact that my daddy is skinny and very tall, and that mom is very short and fat and has long hair. I also know mom uses a cane for walking, and that daddy uses forearm crutches or a wheelchair if he has to go for longer distances. Both have bad backs, and both have arthritis and sciatic pain. This is why they use a cane or crutches.
But even despite all of that, I am happy to know that I have a family who loves me and cares for me so much. They are truly one of a kind, and I shall always be grateful to my parents for choosing me when my parents had died in that car wreck and I had nobody else to turn to in my time of need. They are truly a blessing from God, and I thank God each and every day for my family, even though I had been raised in Mormon fashion and they were Pentecostal by faith. I had to get used to that. But they still accepted me and made me feel welcome into their home. They are an inspiration to me.
(I have since converted to the Pentecostal way. In fact, I go to mom and dad's church each and every week; so somehow or other, we're always usually together, even if I am at home or away from home!!)
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