Pearl's pearls....

Excerpt from "The Child Who Never Grew" by Pearl Buck, copyright 1950! Timeless words.

How often did I cry out in my heart that is would be better if my child died! If that shocks you who have not known, it will not shock those who do know. I would have welcomed death for my child and would still welcome it, for then she would be finally safe.

It is inevitable that one ponders much on this matter of kindly death. Every now and again I see in the newspapers the report of a man or woman who has put to death a mentally defective child. My heart goes out to such a one. I understand the love and despair which prompted the act. There is not only the depair that descends when the inevitable makes itself known, but here is the increasing despair of every day. For each day that makes clear that the child is only as he was yesterday drives the despair deeper, and there are besides the difficulties of care for such a child, the endless round of duties that seem to bear no fruit, tending a body that will be no more than a body however long it lives, gazing into the dull eyes that respond with no lively look, helping the fumbling hands --- all these drive deeper the despair. And added to the despair is the terror and the question, "Who will do this in case I do not live?"

There is also despair in the loss of freedom that comes with the raising of such a child. Adam keeps me from things that I would otherwise be undertaking. It's not his fault...I don't blame him, but it limits my life choices in ways that people can't fathom. It's difficult to have a job that allows me the flexibility that his care requires. I miss working outside my home. I miss the productivity and the social aspects. Also, it's difficult to find things to do that allow for my older son's desires and needs while still allowing for Adam's needs. Each year the gap between what each one wants and needs to do grows greater. How do I find the time to spend with my eldest son doing things that a 10 year old wants to do? How do I find a way to not only care for my sons now, but in the future? I will only live just so long. The financial burden is large. College for Tyler? Full-time care for Adam? Retirement? Despair is a word that fits. I had always thought myself a person capable of anything. That vanity is gone. I don't know how to do this. Luckily my sense of loyalty remains and I will do it. I am a parent. That's what a parent does.