Skip to main content

By Hook or By Crook

So here is the conundrum that has been baffling me for a while now.

In the special needs world, there is this phenomenon of insanely fierce and possessive love that some parents have for their special children. It defies logic, physics, and sometimes even common sense. It is that head scratcher that makes doctors shrug in exasperation when parents refuse life support because of extra pain, or vice versa, keeping machines going long after all visible signs of life are gone. It is the soul shattering dilemma of abortion, it is the mother bear on steroids who bellows in fear and rage at a stranger. It is the mutant strength which defies physics and can lift cars and move mountains. But it is also a double edged sword which cuts the wielder as well.

Our special children often call out this hurricane of love in us, which as often as it keeps them safe; focused in the eye of the storm, it nevertheless, throws and catches in its windy maelstrom everything outside.

85% of marriages with a special needs child end up in divorce.

I stumbled across a online thread this morning which was all about mothers of special children who were left, or did the leaving themselves, resulting in a often and very real hardship of providing for and taking care of children completely on their own. Young mothers, older mothers, complaining about the hardship of living, but never ever about the hardship of loving their child. The hurricane is merciless and yet, the eye of the storm is beautiful, peaceful, and serene.

You see my confusion? How can it be, that though our children become our life, teach us all these life lessons, and yet we can remain in darkness. For sure, there are some marriages that probably are hopeless, especially when quality of life is threatened, but how can it be that 85% fall apart?

I can't claim the blissful happily every after in our own marriage, I can't imagine anybody really can, but I'm saddened by the hardness and finality of a mother fending for her young, hurt and alone.

But I'm also amazed by the incredible drive and love that they posses to keep going, cheerfully most of the time, and have the ability to say: it was all for the best. And yet at the same time, I don't believe them, and that perhaps, is my own weakness and insecurity. I know now, better then to judge another person in time of extreme stress.

Sometimes I find myself wondering if the "by hook or by crook," is really the way to go. Fighting for every breath, fighting circumstance and forcing one self to "snap out of it" and keep going, ignoring the mud sucking at your boots. If our mother-love is so focused that it parches all the ground around the one precious tiny patch of green, can that really be the only and best option?

I love my Leo more then life itself, but is that right? Shouldn't my love expand to include as many as I can in the "eye" of my storm? And shouldn't I, above all else, love our God more? If this can be; if it is possible for us this day and age, I think it should be so.

There is this viral National Geographic video of a young female leopard, who on making one of her first kills, discovers a newborn baby baboon nestled in the fur of its mother's dead body. It's astounding to see how the young leopard first protects the baby from a nearby hyena, and then proceeds to carry it to safety and spend the night gently trying to mother it. It's astounding because it's very clear to see the confusion of the leopard. She doesn't know what to do. She suddenly is filled with an instinct to protect something which should have been a tea time snack. Perhaps one could say, her biological clock is ticking so she can't help feeling that way towards a baby. But the fact still remains, that this is not a baby of her species and that she just killed and ate its mother. As different as night and day, and yet, she is confounded by the maternal feelings of compassion and love, that she suddenly has for it.  I don't know what happens later, I can only assume that the baby baboon dies eventually, but that for those few precious hours, it feels comforted and safe. I am reminded again, of this crazy love thing, and how powerful it is. How mysterious and how worth nurturing, even for just a sliver of it.



How incredible to share it. Perhaps that is the only way to wield the double edged sword safety. It is the only Christian way to love. Love with your heart wide open, and in God's name, and then maybe miracles will happen.







Comments

  1. wow; what a sad statistic. :( May God always protect your family...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The School Bus As Metaphor

A school bus can mean all sorts of different things: dread, boredom, excitement, responsibility, change...it means something different to all of us. I was primarily homeschooled as a kid, and though I preferred that, there was still an element of desire and curiosity for me every time I saw a school bus when I was young.  I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to be part of the school bus world. Of course I didn't have to wonder about it for very long because I did, in many ways, have the ideal education. There was that time I took the winter off from school instead of summer to practice my extra curricular work which was...downhill skiing and snowboarding. Then there was the part-time jobs at the local farms that I was able to do because of my own set and very flexible school hours. To clarify, because it sounds like I didn't do any academics at all in the above two sentences, I did. Lots. Tons. But I did them efficiently and completely independently, e

With Mixed Feelings

So for the past couple weeks my feed has been filled with the "back to school" and "end of summer" and "beginning of parental freedom from their annoying offspring" photos. It's ok, I totally get it. Another year, another back to school pic, another notch in the door jamb, and another chapter of growth and development with junior. Look at him go! Or not, as the case may be for many children. According to the CDC (Centers for Disease control and Prevention) one in six children has one...a developmental disability. A stamp of "not normal" across their foreheads. A number. A check mark in a box. My kid is one of them. I heard a brief segment on NPR that enticingly started out with the title of developmental delays on the rise, a 17% increase over the last twelve years. And though I turned up the volume the segment only talked about how it's probably only due to poverty, and it's only the upper classes that actually pursue diagnosis

The Move

Leo Clement has moved, you guys! The blog is now being hosted by a different platform, and with some awesome new results. Come check it out! All future posts and updates can now be found at the  Little Lion's new digs. Hope to see you there!