when i first read this poem a smile came on my face. It's rather funny when the story ends in the land you live in. Maybe my Summer was born right away in the right place. And living here I must say Emily is right, this is a beautifull country with very nice people.
I am often asked to
describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help
people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine
how it would feel. It's like this...
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip -
to Italy.
You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum.
Michelangelo's David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some
handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your
bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The
stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland??"
I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've
dreamed of going to Italy.":
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland
and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting,
filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a
different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a new
language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never
have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy
than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your
breath, you look around ... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills
... and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy ... and they're all
bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of
your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go.
That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away ... because the loss
of that dream is a very, very significant loss.
But ... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy,
you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely thing ... about
Holland.