Dear son,
I remember when I first met you
in that eastern European orphanage. You couldn’t walk, but
rather stumbled and stomped about, and only when a worker held you up
by your hands. Your legs were weak and your steps extremely
uncertain. Your skin was pockmarked, and you were so thin for
your age of seven and a half years.
It is not our proudest moment to
say this, but your dad and I were nervous. We had been told
that you were blind, just as your sister and I are. We were
familiar and comfortable with blindness; it was already our normal.
However, we were also told you had cerebral palsy, but to what
extent, we had no idea. We honestly didn’t know much about
cerebral palsy. We were told repeatedly by the orphanage staff
that your entire left side was weak, and we should avoid things like
holding your left hand, for example. When we visited you at
meals, all you ever had was runny soup and a piece of bread.
You didn’t know any English, and our questions to your caregivers
about your schooling were met with vague, roundabout answers.
But son, please do not be angry at those who cared for you before you
became ours. They were doing the best they could with what
little time, information and resources they had. We hold no
malice towards them, and I hope you won’t either.
Please believe me when I say that
I’m not bringing up any of these things about your past to shame or
humiliate you. On the contrary, I want you to know where you
came from so you can all the more easily see how far you’ve come!
I want you to see how truly incredible you are and how your
determination has impacted your dad and I. I want others to
learn from your perseverance and strength of will. You’ve
only been home with us for 17 months, but in such a short amount of
time, you have overcome in so many areas! You have astounded so
many people, including us.
Keep overcoming your supposed
physical limitations. When you first came home, we wondered if
you would be able to climb the stairs, unassisted. Within two
days, your dad had taught you how to use both hands on the railing
for support and you were navigating those stairs! Within a
couple weeks, you had learned to scoot around the living room and you
reveled in this new-found independence. When we first took you
to physical therapy, it was doubted whether you would ever be able to
walk on your own. You started to use a walker and loved it but
we weren’t sure if you would ever be able to be without it.
Within
three months of coming home, you took your first tentative,
unassisted steps at grandma’s house! I wish you could
understand how proud of you your dad and I were at that moment and
what an incredible feat you were accomplishing! You were so scared
but determined, and you let the excitement of getting to ring that
musical doorbell at grandma’s front door, motivate you to walk
farther and farther on your own.
When you first came home, you
were afraid to use your left hand for anything. Now, you know
that God gave you two good, strong hands and you are using them both
to play piano. When you first came home, the heaviest thing you
most likely ever lifted in your orphanage life was your shoes.
Now, you are gaining the upper body strength to hold your own growing
body weight on one of the uneven bars at your sister’s gymnastics
facility. In your orphanage life, you mostly sat on a couch,
with only a TV or radio for amusement. Now you are running down
our hallway, jumping on your trampoline and even jumping some without
support! Your legs continue to grow even stronger; you are now
also able to pedal your new adaptive bike!
My son, keep overcoming in your
learning. You have grasped English incredibly well for how
short a time you’ve been home with us! If I were suddenly
uprooted and thrown into a place where no one spoke my language or
understood anything I said, I’d be a bawling mess! But not
you. You aren’t afraid to put yourself out there and just
talk to people. I love seeing you at church, the playground or
restaurant, talking with whoever will listen. You have learned
so many new concepts since you’ve been with us. You can read
short sentences using embossed print letters and braille as well.
You have a knack for phonics and spelling and are grasping the basics
of grammar. You are learning how to add and subtract and are
even learning about the geography of United States, this new place
that is your home.
You have already become so much
more than I think anyone in your home country would have imagined.
Honestly, you have amazed me. Yes, your dad and I try every day
to give you the opportunities, encouragement, and tools to overcome.
We try and challenge you to learn and work as hard as you can.
But if you did not have the desire to overcome, to become more, the
drive to push yourself, even when it’s hard, none of what we do
would matter. My son, keep overcoming! My son, keep
teaching us and everyone around you that a person doesn’t have to
be defined only by their disability, current circumstances or for
that matter, their past. We are so glad to be a part of your
journey of overcoming and can’t wait to see how far the next years
take you! Your dad and I are so proud of you.
Your Parents
