Jake

Wanted to tell you a story about a chicken.

His name was Jake.

We raised 60 roosters this Summer.

20   Black-australorp’s

20 Silver- laced Wynadotte

and 20 Rhode Island Red’s.

Every morning I would open the door to the brooder house. The young roosters  would rush  the door like shoppers  on Black Friday….

all except the Rhode Island Red’s.  Only two of them were ever determined enough to go outside to put up with the constant harassment.

The Australorps and Wynadottes’s would simply   not allow the Rhode Island Red’s to leave the brooder house  to forage…

even in the 100 degree heat this past July.

Chickens really do have a “pecking order.”

Normally, once that has been established, the  pecking will taper off.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

One of the two Rhode Island red’s I would see outside on occasion was missing all of his long tail feathers and many of the feathers on the back of his wings. (the other chickens had pulled them out)

In spite of the constant pecking, this red rooster would come outside and make the best of it.

He became very aggressive, even with me.

4 weeks ago, when I opened the door of the brooder house. I noticed a Rhode Island Red rooster giving me the evil eye.

7  feet away, on a perch .

He caught my eye, because of the way in which he was moving his head back and forth…

It felt like he was trying to judge the distance between us.

I imagined him thinking…

“Can I reach him  if  I really go for it?”

The next thing I knew he was in my face.

Sure enough, the red rooster without any tail feathers.

I decided right then and there to take him out of the mix and put him in a building by himself.  As much as I wanted him to have the freedom to run around outside, it was either that, or continue to allow the other chickens to pick on him and he become even more violent.

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He reminded me of a young man I met a few years ago.

His name was Jake (not his real name)

I taught a construction class @ the local community college/ started out with a dozen young roosters, I mean men..

Two weeks into school, two of the roosters, I mean  students, decided to challenge my authority.

It wasn’t pretty, but  when the dust settled, they knew  who was in charge.

I found out later, one of them, had lost his mother two years before  to cancer and had been having run-in’s with  authority figures ever since.

Just knowing that, changed my attitude.  Instead of wanting to kick him out of the program  so I wouldn’t have to deal with him, I was challenged by a friend to pray for him.

When someone knows you respect them as a person, but will not tolerate their crap, it is amazing to watch their heart  change.  I saw it in Jake the student, and I was beginning to see it in Jake the rooster.

Yesterday was “butchering day” on the farm.

It’s pretty quiet outside this morning.

I debated what to do with Jake.

I’m sure he would  have attacked another person if he had the chance

Since he’s a rooster, there are no eggs.

Plus I already have a pet Rooster…

his name is Little Moe with the gimpy leg

Economic sense told me the best thing to do was butcher him with the rest of them….

I could have went either way.

 Jake

If you’re ever in the area, (we live in Iowa)   I’d love to introduce you to Jake and Little Moe

Sometimes stories really do have a happy ending.

What’s under YOUR grow light? ;-)

Do you know what’s more fun than growing weed in your basement?

Heirloom tomatoes!

Why? Because

A.  they’re  legal

and B.

Instead of  only being able to choose from a dozen  varieties at your local garden center, you can choose from several hundred  different varieties of tomatoes.

In  March I started two trays of Brandy wine’s  in our basement:

Brandy wine tomatoes @ 8 weeks.

My Mom reminded me a couple of weeks ago  to set them out  a few hours  a day, a  couple of weeks before   sticking them in the ground.

(The process is called “hardening”)

Different gardeners use different technique but basically, the idea is to introduce  your young plants  to the forces of nature gradually.

…if you don’t, the first good wind and they’ll all snap off.

I set them on the east side of our house, next to the compost pile.  It’s kind of sheltered there and out of direct sun light.

They were still  pretty beat up by the end of the first day.

I  put them back  under the grow light, and within a couple of days, they  started to recover.

It reminded me of a true story I’d read about  few years ago.  The mature trees in an arboretum  mysteriously began falling over.  What they eventually discovered was this….because the trees had grown up inside, in such a sheltered environment,  they had never experienced adversity.  As they matured, the cell structure in the trees was so weak they collapsed under their own weight.

I’ve been thinking about that all day today.

The  relationship between adversity and personal growth.

As much as I hate adversity, I know  that a certain amount of it can actually be good for me.

Right now, I’m roofing a 2 story farm-house.

At the end of the day I come home mentally exhausted.

I am  responsible  not only for my own  safety, but the safety of two other men.

We are installing a new type of metal roof.

So in addition to  safety concerns, I’m also dealing with a learning curve.

(At the end of the day, that roof better not leak, or you know who’s phone is going to be ringing the first time it rains….)

Did I mention, I hate heights

Yep, a carpenter who hates heights…go figure….

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Went to a walk-a-thon 3 weeks ago for our grandson Rigg.   One of the disabilities he has been identified with is Angelman’s Syndrome.

My daughter deals with adversity and stress    24/7

One of the songs playing  in the back ground at the walk-a-thon was a song by Kelly Clarkson…..

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…”

When I was watching that video tonight.  it reminded me of one of my blogging friends

If you’ve been a reader here for any length of time, you know one of my few pet peeves is  religious people who spew out “trite platitudes”

If you ever see me in a receiving line at a funeral home..I want to warn you in advance..don’t..and I repeat, don’t  mumble some trite platitude to comfort me.

It won’t be pretty.

I say that here because undoubtedly someone at some point, is going to read this post and think I’m spouting off simplistic trite platitudes in response to the  adversity and suffering life can sometimes dish out.

Not on your life.

Some of the tomatoes I started out with  didn’t make it.

Others are still alive..

barely….

Here are some pictures of the ones  still standing  tonight:

Brandy wine tomato thick and healthy stalk  starting to bloom

Notice how robust that stem is

Down but not out

Broken and starting over

As always, thanks for taking the time to read my “stuff”   DM

Some of last years crop

A trip to the Vet

Little Moe is the latest addition to our family

A pet chicken…

and not just any chicken mind you…a handicapped chicken

Here’s a recent photo:

He’s got a gimpy leg.  His right one just wants to flop

Last night I posted a 40 second video clip of Little Moe hobbling around on our face book home page.

A good friend and fellow blogger Kristina got after me and said I needed to take him to the vet.

Now in my mind that is a $35 to $40 office call/ not to mention any treatment that might have been suggested, so I let the need be known on face book.  I was willing to take him to the vet but we were not in a position financially @ this point to cover the cost.

Would you believe I had 2 people step forward, willing to underwrite Little Moe’s visit…

There are still  lots of kind tender heart-ed people out there, I meet them all the time.

I asked my wife to call the clinic first thing this morning to see if they’d see a pet chicken

Yep

The Vet clinic called at 2:30 this afternoon  and said we could bring him in for a check up….

Here are some action photos from our time @ the vets:

Little Moe in the pet carrier waiting to see the vet

the Vet and I before he examines Little Moe

Little  Moe getting a check up

As I was driving into town I thought about the situation

What if there was nothing that could be done and this little bird is in constant pain?

What would be the loving thing to do?

What would you do?

At first the Veterinary  thought there was a broken bone

The more he manipulated the leg and felt around, he decided it wasn’t broken

Rather, Little Moe seems to be missing some tendons in that area of his leg

I asked if he were in pain.

Nope, didn’t appear to be

There was really nothing that could be done, in terms of a splint etc.  it just is what it is.

We talked briefly about some guy on the TV last night who shoots a bow and arrow with only his feet….

I guess that came up because Little Moe seems to be making allowances for his handicap in other ways.

I’ve had 3 different people suggest to me I ought to write a children’s book with Little Moe as the main character….

Any takers in the audience who would be willing to team up with me on this?  I’m thinking the story line doesn’t have to be really very long..

I think I need an illustrator as well.  If you’re at all interested let me know.

Well, I better go outside and shut the door to the chicken house.  I let Little Moe and his friends free range during the day, but have to lock them up at night or they may wind up as someone’s dinner in the middle of the night.

DM

Silent

Did you ever wonder what you would have done, had you been an average German Citizen living in the early 1940′s when they started to round up your Jewish neighbors?  I’d like to believe I would have done something and not just sat quietly on the sidelines minding my own business.

Now I’m not so sure.

In a way I have been doing it for the last 30 years because

#1

I don’t like to rock the boat

# 2

while I knew something was up, I haven’t seen or heard anything directly…until last night.

I heard Amy Johnson tell her story. she was a director @ a planned parenthood facility.

For 8 years right out of college she worked for Planned Parenthood, becoming a facility director

..until she watched an ultra sound procedure of a 16 week old child in the womb.

She’d been looking women in the eye for 8 years telling them that blob of tissue  would not feel a thing if they had an abortion, the nerves did not develop until much later in the pregnancy….

it was a lie.

Until one day she was asked to be in the room while the doctor performed an ultrasound guided abortion.

She watched on the monitor screen as that little baby fought for it’s life being chased by the tip of the suction machine…

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Here is a beautiful 2 minute clip from National Geographic that shows what life really looks like in the womb, as early as 6 weeks….

I will be silent no more

The Sinkhole Syndrome

If my private world is in order, it will be because I am convinced that the inner world of the spiritual must govern the outer world of activity

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The Sinkhole syndrome

The residents of a Florida apartment building awoke to a terrifying sight outside their windows.  The ground beneath the street in front of their building had literally collapsed, creating a massive depression that Floridian’s call a sinkhole.  Tumbling into the ever-deepening pit were automobiles, pavement, sidewalks, and lawn furniture.  The building itself would obviously be the next to go.

Sinkholes occur, scientists say, when underground streams drain away during seasons of drought, causing the ground at the surface to lose its underlying support.  Suddenly everything simply caves in, leaving people with a frightening suspicious that nothing – not even the earth beneath their feet – is trustworthy.

There are many people whose lives are like one of Florida’s sinkholes.  It is likely that at one time or another many of us have perceived ourselves to be on the verge of a sinkhole – like cave-in.  In the feelings of numbing fatigue, a taste of apparent failure, or the bitter experiences of disillusionment about goals or purposes, we have have sensed something within us about to give way.  We feel we are just a moment from a collapse that will threaten to sweep our entire world into a bottomless pit.  Sometimes there seems to be little that cane be done to prevent such a collapse.  What is wrong?

If we think about it for very long, we may discover the existence of an inner space 0f our private world- about which we were formerly ignorant.  I hope it will become apparent that, if neglected, this private world will not sustain the weight of events and stresses that press upon us.

Some people are surprised and disturbed when they make such a self discovery.  They suddenly realize that they have spent the majority of their time and energy establishing life on the visible level, at the surface.  They have accumulated a host of good and perhaps even excellent assets such as academic degrees, work experience, key relationships and physical strength or beauty.

There is nothing wrong with all of that . But often it is discovered almost too late that the private world of the person is in a state of disorderliness or weakness.  And when that is true, there is  always potential for the sinkhole syndrome.

We must come to see ourselves as living in two very different worlds.  Our outer, or public world is easier to deal with,.  It is much more measurable, visible, and expandable,.  Our outer world consists of work, play possessions, and a host of acquaintances that make up a social network,  It is the part of our existence easiest to evaluate in terms of success, popularity, wealth, and beauty.  But our inner world is more spiritual in nature.  Here is a center in which choices and values can be determined, where solitude and reflection might be pursued….

….Our public worlds are filled with a seeming infinity of demands upon our time, our loyalties, our money, and our energies.  And because these public worlds of ours are so visible, so real, we have to struggle to ignore all there seductions and demands.  They scream for our attention and action.

But there is a private world in every one of us.

A world that may be as infinite in size as we perceive our public worlds, to be.

From the book Ordering Your Private World by Gordon McDonald

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I  DM read those words in 1987 as my personal world was on the verge of a   sinkhole collapse.

I was 29 years old.

to be continued…

Arne Saknussemm

In 1864 Jules Verne wrote  Journey to the Center of the Earth, a fictional story of 3 men, following in the footsteps of a Mr Arne Saknussemm, to the very center of the earth.  They encountered trials and situations beyond their wildest dreams.  At certain critical points, they would discover the name:

(Arne Saknussemm) carved into rock. That meant that in spite of what they were going through, that yes, they were on the right course.  Arne had been through this very same area and had returned to the surface to tell about his adventure, so they could keep pressing on.

I became a Christian May 4th 7:48 PM 1980.    Since that time, I have on occasion found myself in various  trying situations , some relatively short-term, others that caused me to stumble for weeks and months. For the most part, I have felt alone as I would attempt to gain (or keep) my spiritual bearings. Most of the mentoring that God has used to keep me on track has come in the form of good books and biographies.

While I am thankful for all of those timely books, I believe there is a better way….somebody who could have looked me in the eye and said, “Yes, I hear you,” or “Yes, I too can relate to what you are struggling with,” or “What you are going through happens more often than you might suspect.”

I am not talking about quoting verses about this or that, or telling you to “claim the victory” or other cheap trite platitudes.  Rather, as one battle hardened, battle- weary soldier to another.

All of us, sooner or later, to one degree or another, will taste many of the same pains:  Addictions, depression, grief, loss, betrayal, rejection, slander, loved ones who wrong us in a significant way, other Christians who turn on us, etc. etc.  Really, the list is endless.  Not one of them will come into our lives without first having to pass through the hands of God.

Even as Satan (yep, I do believe he’s real) could not touch so much as one of the hairs on Job’s camels without God’s permission, so too, nothing comes into our lives without the same permission.  There is not one harsh word, one look, one bit of slander, not one wrong doing that comes into our lives without first passing through the nail- pierced hands of Jesus.

Let me close by sharing a few things  I learned when I passed through an extended season of depression and discouragement, at a time where I lost all but one my closest friends,  and my life goal suddenly disappeared right before my very eyes. (I’m not talking about some short term, project, but something I had invested years of my life.)

#1  My focus was to remain “connected” and “soft” to God and  other people.  when I was tempted to get angry ( I was and you will be)  I could not afford to harbor bitterness.  Instead  I needed to pray God’s best over their lives.  I did it, and so can you.

#2  I wrote out my inner turmoil on paper.  Gradually it helped to clarify the many feelings and thoughts swirling around in my head.

#3  If you are depressed, you are in great company.  Elijah, David, Spurgeon, Luther, Winston Churchill and a host of modern day Christians have walked where you are walking.   Sometimes, it’s not due to any wrong doing on your part whatsoever.  Sometimes it is as simple as “burning the candle on both ends.”  Vince Lombardi put it like this; ” Fatigue makes cowards of us all.”

#4  Schedule some R and R into your life. (Remember Elijah?  God sent him to a B and B (well sort of);-) to recharge)

#5  Seek Godly counsel, someone removed from your situation with whom you can “unpack” the whole tangled mess.  My experience has been that some of these things are rather complicated.

#6 Don’t beat yourself up, cut yourself some slack, be patient with yourself.

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I originally wrote this back in 2000.  Since that time, I’ve dealt with the sexual assault of a daughter,  some heavy duty marriage stress,  one child landing in jail for drunk driving, just to name 3 significant life events.  I’m still on track and plodding .  DM

Celebrating my Immigrant Roots

Grandma came to America in 1929.

She was 23 years old.

Picture of grandma when she was still single.

She came to America with a girl friend.

They, like thousands of others, came by ship…

Grandma second from the right

She told me later, she never saw her father again and didn’t see her mother until after the war. She moved to  Chicago, but came west to  visit her Aunt and Uncle on the farm near Scotch Grove Iowa.  Her aunt and uncle were her sponsors.

Grandma sitting with her Aunt and Uncle Fred and Hannah Otten  shortly after coming to America.

While visiting them  she met my grandpa.  A big strapping farm boy who spoke low German and English.

Side note…Grandma spoke both High and Low German.  She was a city girl from

Wilhelmshaven, Germany  a port city on the North Sea

His parents were good friends with the Ottens….and the rest as they say is history.

Grandpa told me his friends made fun of him for marrying a “city girl”

He said, “What’s it to them???   They could just  to go to….@%#&” .

Grandma  learned how to milk cows (by hand) .  Grandpa told me he got grandma  a couple of hundred chickens “so she could have her own egg money.”

Dad was born at home, (I’m pretty sure on the kitchen table)

Those had to be tough years..

Here’s a picture of grandma and my dad:

Here’s a song  that reminds me of grandma….

and finally, here’s a picture of me….all decked out in my German leterhosen.

That’s not a knife…

Young  widow lives just up the road from us.

She called yesterday.

Wanted to know if  a red van  had stopped by our place  recently?

Why yes I said, but we hadn’t answer the door only because our son had called and given us the heads up.

Red van had stopped @ his place.  A young hispanic, in her late teens/ early 20′s had asked if she  could clean his carpet for free.  They had a couple of crews in the area and  were checking with  all the neighbors…  see who else might want a free cleaning…..  all they asked was  to have a chance to give a short sales pitch.

She was very smooth,  asked too many questions,  was way too observant.. Son said it took 15 minutes to get rid of her….

Young widow who called me  was not so lucky. The 3 cleaning guys weaseled their way into her house, even after she’s point blank said she was busy and didn’t have time.  She told me it took over 4 hours to get rid of them, and that was only after she  threatened to get out her shotgun…and yes she really does have one      This same van then stopped by her brothers place.  The sheriff  was called.  Turned out all three men had criminal records, and one had an outstanding warrant.  Warrant said he was to be considered possibly armed and dangerous.

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We live in a broken world.

That is the cold hard truth.

Even if you mind your own business and play by the rules.

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Have to tell you a story my grandpa told me…

Grandpa was   one of 13 children, 6 boys and  7 girls.

That’s him in the back, far left

He grew up farming with horses.

The boys used to wrestle in the  haymow  for entertainment.

In his prime, grandpa stood  6 foot 2, weighed  240 pounds.

One of the gentlest, most soft hearted men you would ever meet.

I heard it said more than once, there was not a person Grandpa didn’t get along with….that’s probably where I get some of my disposition.

One Saturday afternoon   grandpa stopped by  Hayen’s  general store, collecting for their country church.   Five young men were hanging around  outside waiting for the dance to begin.

Grandpa said  “hi”  , but the guys just grunted. Back  in the 1920′s some people looked down their noses @ the Germans in the area.

Twenty minutes later as he  walked  out the store, someone hit him on the back of the head.

  ”As I came out the door of the store someone hit me from behind. 

The next thing I knew I had 4 or 5 guys piling on top of me. 

I got  up and started swinging.

By the time it was over,  the last one  was in  the car  hiding in the back seat.”

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Heard on NPR yesterday, that the crime rates in New York City and elsewhere continue to trend downwards…while @ the same time, gun sales and gun ownership is @ an all time high…..Makes sense to me.

The trick is to love people,  be engaged with life yet  without loosing sight of the fact there is such a thing as evil.

I’ll close with this short clip from one of my favorite movies…..

10 reasons why you need to plant an apple orchard.

Hanging scale in our sales area

1.  Photo opportunities.   Our apple orchard constantly changes with the seasons.   There is always something catching my eye and bringing me joy.

Royal Court apple tree in bloom this Spring

2.  It provides the perfect blend of solitude and social interaction.  I love my peace and quiet.  There is nothing more nurturing for me than spending a Saturday morning alone, picking apples.  At the same time, I do love meeting and bantering with the public on occassion, and when the mood strikes, I will load up the pick up and head to our local farmers market.

Hawking apples at the farmers market last season

3.  Supplemental income.   Sure there is some work involved in tending an orchard, but not nearly as much as you might suspect.  One Semi dwarf tree  will cost you  $20 to $25.00 and once it’s mature, it can produce between 2 to 4 bushel of apples a year. = 80 to 160 pounds of fruit @ $1.50 a pound that’s $120 to $240 gross, from one tree…per year..not bad for some additional pocket change if you ask me

4.  mental stimulation.    While the basics of tending an apple orchard are pretty easy to grasp, there is always something new to learn.   Did you know there are over 750 different varieties of apples in the United States alone, and over 2000 varieties world wide?

5.  Keeps you physically active. “ Keep those muscles moving”  my grandpa used to say.  Between the pruning in the early spring, to the picking in the fall,  having an orchard provides me with lots of  opportunities  to be physically active outside, all the while,I’m getting paid  and enjoying some fresh air.  As I  get older  I will probably do more of that “you pick” marketing, but for now, I can still climb and honestly, I love picking apples.  Last Saturday, I picked about 1200 pounds of apples in about 6 hours.

6.  Provides me with lots of opportunities to bless others.  I’m not going to brag and tell you how this works itself out except to say, I try to sell mostly our #1 apples, which means, what to do with the seconds?    The opportunities  to give are all around.

7.  Get to enjoy some varieties of fruit that are hard to come by normally – plus if you can find them, you’ll pay through the nose.  Sure we have Honey crisp, was told last year they were charging up to $5.00 a pound for those little rascals.   So far this year, I’ve picked 11 crates of them and probably have at least another 8.  My personal favorite is called the Ginger Gold:

Ginger Gold.

It is every bit as crispy as the Honey crisp and sweet.   Last year we had 32 crates of these little jewels.

8.  Fresh apple cider.    You haven’t lived until you’ve had fresh apple cider pressed from your own apples.   It’s got a texture and taste you’ll never , ever find in a store -ever.  If you come to visit, and the apples are in season, you can help me press out a batch.

9.  You’ll  give the bees something to talk about.  Ever hear of the “waggle dance”?

10. Provides me with lots  of spiritual insight.

Life is full of mystery.    I believe God has hidden the answers to some of our questions about life in the apple orchard.

Pruning and suffering.  I hate it when people try to slap pat answers onto my life when I’m in the middle of something hard.  It makes me angry.  So I will not disrespect you and do that now.  Sometimes it feels like I’m getting “pruned”  and when it does, I barely have enough energy to survive, let alone  do more.

Fruitfulness (ever see an apple tree grunt?    Me neither.

Seasons.   Apple trees don’t produce fruit 12 months out of the year.  In fact, they need large blocks of “down time”  in the winter..to get ready for the next season.  They literally need that time, which is why apple trees don’t do well in warmer climates.

Variety.  Already mentioned this one, but it bears repeating.    Apple trees vary widely and differently in the type of fruit they produce.  I think people are created much more varied than culture tries to tell us.   I found an apple tree on an abandoned farmstead a few years ago like nothing I’d ever seen before.  Some heirloom variety I’m sure.  It looked and tasted just like it was designed to taste.  Definitely not some domesticated boring apple.  So why do you and I sometimes think we have to look like everybody else?   Nothing more beautiful than someone being 100% alive just the way they were designed:

Heirloom variety I found at an abandoned orchard near here

As always, thanks for reading my stuff DM

If you’re a parent of a special needs child

 What I would tell you….

I sensed someone watching me as I comforted my daughter after a particularly traumatizing dentist appointment at the Children’s Hospital. I looked up and saw you staring at us from across the waiting lounge. I didn’t pay much attention, as I have grown accustomed to the curious eyes of onlookers. Our daughter was born 7 ½ years ago and after an abrupt lack of oxygen at birth, she changed the course of our lives forever. Perhaps, our lives unfolded exactly as they were meant to — they just didn’t unfold in the way we had imagined or planned.

I talked to my daughter, kissed her and hugged her. I was giving her a brief break before putting her through the next traumatic experience of the day ~ the car ride home. Having cerebral palsy is the least of her worries but this condition can turn a car seat into a torture chamber.

I stood up to gather our things, my daughter in my arms, and it was then that I noticed you were holding an infant. It was difficult to know for certain how old she was. I knew immediately, though, that you were one of us. I knew that only recently your life had changed drastically and you sat here in this Children’s Hospital wondering, “How did we get here?” I should have recognized that shocked stare because I once had it, too. And I assume that the man sitting next to you, looking equally tired and shocked, was your husband.

I made my way toward the doors and as I passed you, our eyes met and I smiled at you. You smiled back and for a moment I knew that you knew that I understood.

If I could, I would tell you although you might not believe it right now, you will be okay. I would tell you to dig deep within yourself because you will find the strength and resilience somehow and it will surprise you. I would tell you to honour your feelings and let the tears flow when they need to. You will need the energy for more important things than holding in emotions.

I would tell you that the man sitting next to you might cope differently and he might even want to run the other way. But I would tell you to hang on because he is scared and he really doesn’t want to leave you. I would tell you to look after yourself so that you can care for your daughter. Don’t underestimate the power of good nutrition, exercise, sleep, supplements and an empathetic therapist.

I would tell you that grief will come and it will confuse you because how can something that brings such joy also bring such sadness? I would tell you to let people into your lives to help you. Our children really do require a village to raise them. Access all of the services and resources available. Find someone who can learn how to care for your child so that you can have breaks and so you and your partner can go on dates… even little ones like a twenty minute stroll outside holding hands, sharing wine on the deck or even catching a movie.

I would tell you that you know your child best of all and no matter what you are told by the doctors and other professionals who will be a part of your life, YOU know the answers. You will teach them about your child. At times you will question the validity of your intuition but after a while you will become profoundly aware of how accurate your gut feelings are when it comes to your child.

I would tell you not to be a martyr. Caring for your child will require tremendous focus and unimaginable energy and it can burn you out and make you sick when you least expect it. I would tell you to let your guard down along the way so that you can stay healthy in your mind and spirit.

I would tell you to seek out other mothers like yourself. This is, indeed, the road less travelled and you will feel very alone along the way especially in the company of healthy children and their parents. Yes, you will feel very isolated but know that we are here. Sometimes you have to look a little harder but we are here. You can find us online, in support groups and wandering the halls of the Children’s Hospital.

I would tell you that you will know far too much about the human anatomy, neurology, gastro-enterology, feeding tubes, pharmaceuticals, and so on, than a mother should ever have to know. I would also tell you to do some research to inform yourself but be very careful not to be overwhelmed by the internet and all of the information available to you. Having some trust in what your child’s specialists tell you can be very grounding. Other mothers and fathers of children like ours can be a wealth of information.

I would tell you that this isn’t an easy life. It is tough: there is no doubt about it but you are very capable and the rewards are great. You may never see your child graduate from university, walk down the aisle or give birth to your grandchildren but you will feel pure joy when your child laughs for the first time at the age of 3 years and 8 months. You will celebrate the moment when you connect with your non-verbal child. You will call your spouse at work to tell him that she has gained 4oz. because weight gain is always a struggle with our children.

I would tell you that you will have to witness procedures and surgeries and suffering well beyond what any parent should ever have to bear. But, I would tell you that you will be courageous and comforting because your child will be experiencing far more suffering than any child should ever have to endure.

I would tell you that your life will not resemble the life you had planned. It will be as though you landed in Holland instead of Italy but after some time, you will adjust the dreams you had and this reality will be normal to you. You will dream new dreams.

I would tell you that you might find yourself staring death in the face during close calls. You will be asked to fill out DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) forms and although you might make decisions to not resuscitate in the event of a cardiac arrest, when the moment arises, you will panic to think that it could all come to an end. And I would tell you to not feel guilty in the darkest moments when you pray to God to take your child if it would mean the suffering would end. This might horrify you but know that your love for your child is so great that at times you will believe that death would be a blessing.

I would tell you that others will not get it. They can’t. This is a very unique and complex journey on all levels. We cannot expect anyone to get it. And I would tell you that people — the cashier at the grocery store or your insurance broker or even your hair stylist — will say stupid things like, “God only gives these special kids to special mothers” and “God will only give you what you can handle.” You will nod and smile but eventually you will look them right in the face and tell them that those simple maxims are a bunch of bullshit.

I would tell you that imagining your future will be bittersweet and may involve a Plan A and a Plan B. Plan A will be what you will do if your child outlives the predicted life expectancy set forth by the experts and Plan B will come into play if they do not. You will catch yourself casually discussing your future with the code phrases of Plan A and Plan B.

I would tell you that grief will creep up on you after years have passed and you least expect it like at a wedding when the father and bride have their first dance or when you hear a birth announcement. It will also creep up on you when you see yourself in a new mother who is just beginning this journey.

I would tell you that you will recognize her because she is you from 7 ½ years ago. And you will want to run to her and hug her and tell her that everything will be okay. You will want to save her from the pain and the hardship and the unknown.

But I would tell you that when you find yourself sitting at the Children’s Hospital and you see a new mom and dad who are just starting this journey, you smile at them and walk by as they have their own path to travel and it will be different than yours. It may be longer or shorter. It may be more or less complicated.

I would tell you that her searching eyes are looking for some sign that she will survive this. And you, smiling as you pass, with your child arching all over your shoulder, will let her know that yes, she will survive this and may even thrive.

Julie Keon
June 29th 2011

Julie Keon’s website is  here

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Our daughter Angie, posted a link to that letter tonight on facebook.  She and her husband Matt are the parents of two beautiful children.  Their youngest Rigg is a special needs child.

Driving Mr Rigg