Parents see ghosts.
My teen-aged daughter sings with her high school choir, and I see the ghost of the baby girl who bounced up and down with excitement in her crib when I walked in her room. My ten-year-old rests against me on the couch, and I feel the ghost of her tiny body that once fit entirely on my chest. My son walks by and I see his ghost toddling toward me. Kids grow and change so rapidly that I sometimes have the head-spinning experience of simultaneously living in the past and the present.
Parents of a special needs child also live with the ghost of “What Could Have Been.” We’ve lived in the same town since my son was born, and I have watched the boys his age mature from toddlers to teens. They attend the same schools as his sisters, while my son attends a non-public school in another city. When I walk his sisters to school, I see his peers playing games before school starts – tag, kickball – and I see my ghost boy playing too.
I love my real boy, my flesh-and-blood, heart-beating boy, but it took about two years to accept and reconcile the ghosts of “What Could Have Been.” Over time, my real boy banished those ghosts with his sweetness, quirks, enthusiasm, and innocence. He is funny, he is kind. He surprises us and makes us laugh with unexpected comments and funny fixations – like his love for Jane Fonda (who voices an animated character in a show he watches).
My hope for each of my children is that they create a life with meaningful relationships and work. That they feel loved, supported, and fulfilled. My son has shown me that there are many paths to a meaningful life. Although his path to happiness is less-traveled, my son loves his life, he loves his family, he is deeply loved.
I’m also aware that in the lottery of life, my boy has it better than most. He was born in a country with programs and services for people with disabilities. He was born into a family with the resources, patience, and skills to care and provide for him; and an abundance of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins to love him. He lives in a community that knows and accepts him. He attends a school with highly trained teachers, and has a team of specialists committed to his well-being. And in the lottery of parenting, I received a child who has given me a different perspective and deeper understanding of unconditional love, happiness, and the privilege of parenting.
Now when ghost boy comes to visit, we sit side-by-side and watch my real boy as he checks out books from the library, or sings along to a favorite song. We watch him at his annual therapeutic horseback riding show where he hoists his trophy high and waves to the crowd. I hug my warm, lovely, happy boy and when I turn around, the ghosts are gone.
