It took me thirty something years to find a term to describe my mother since all the other words used by the kids at school, some family members, and doctors made me cringe. It was hard for me to say mentally retarded when I explained my mother to the new commers in my life.
But id say it because I was brave and not anywhere close to being ashamed of her. Even when I'd say mentally retarded to people, I could see them cringe as well, and often would be shunned for even stating that my own mother was. They'd say with their own shame" Oh jewley.. don't say that." But I had no other way to explain it. So I chose to state the obvious and the diagnosis she was given. And believe me I have never said this in her presence. Not once since birth. And extreme caution to the ones who dare insult her, special caution to the ones rediculous enough to insult her with both her and I present. I have a list of school suspensions for the amount of fights I was in all in my mothers honor.
I think I was born to this woman so that I would be able to help others like her and myself. After all she is a daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, mother and friend. So many people have been in and out of her life. She's known loss, love, joy and failure just like the rest of us.
I always thought of her during some of my most trying times. How amazing she is this Magic Maker I have as a mother. A woman who was isolated, abused by her peers, neglect by her loved ones and treated as if so stupid not to include in conversation about her around her. However, she taught me so many things. She taught me unconditional love when I felt hate. Adventure during the poorest times. And something so amazing, she taught me how to see beyond the limiting teachings of society. She parented with compassion and zero modern education . With the heart of an eight year old and at times more like a toddler, she loves with the wisdom of God himself. She kept all of us kids together made us meals bathed us. Corrected us when we were wrong taught us the alphabet without being able to read. She taught me how to swaddle a baby. And to always remember what people liked. She can remember things that would make you smile and that is what she uses to connect with others to form a loving bond. In that there is magic.
A Magic Maker person is not a door mat, they are not flat and without wisdom. They are our biggest fear. The fear of self reflection. The fear of losing control. The fear of dislike and ridicule. The fear of just "being".
Parents with special needs are parents too. And the children of special needs parents exist and thrive. I hope to reach far and wide to bring awareness to the special circumstances of this type of loving parenting.
Sure it's tough. Certainly it's trying, However might it be possible I were born to be her angel. Maybe thats my ego, maybe it's not. All I can say for sure is that My Magic Maker is a gift from God and I am here to share her story.
, Hi lovely readers, You can find more about me under my about me tab from my website