Before we get into this subject: I swore I wasn't going to post for a bit. I wanted the abortion post up for a bit, as I feel it's an important issue, no matter which side of the fence you are on. However, going to my regular blogs one has compelled me to write about this subject. This blog is a new one for me, heard about some things over at se7ens. Went to visit, and put it in my bookmarks. No...not giving the url.
  I guess some background in order. Reasons for staying to read the blog I am talking about it. At first, the diary of a stripper threw me. I do not like the stereotypes that go with it. The things that happen to a lot of women who have made this choice. I'm not even sure it really is necessarily a choice. For some it's a must do in order to survive. Women are very good at that they are survivors. I never minded my husband going to a strip club, he has gone once since we were married. We had a fight and I still don't know why he went. He comes home to me, that was my sole reasoning for it. I understand guy's needs. Porn is one of them. Now I'm not so sure I want him to visit one at all. Ever. I still don't object to the idea per se, just what it does to women in the profession. Women in those places are sex objects, and I know what that's like. I do not like it at all. No, I never did or will do something like that. Nor will I ever judge a woman for that choice. Enough about that. That's not the point, just some background. There was a great post about effects from the woman's point of view. Today was a post about her daughter. No idea really what her daughter is like other than she has a mind of a 6year old and is turning 13.
  On to the show. I'm going to take you back to my schoolage and non-existent childhood. My pics below may look like I'm happy, but they were always rare moments. We're going to sum it up in a few sentences for background purposes. For the curious, Just go to the archives, later I may edit in the links. This is not really about me, more that you'll understand my motives for saying what I am going to say. After about 3rd grade, I was a child no more, rather a mother figure to my sisters, my friends, and just about anyone else I was aquainted with. I got along better with the adult friends my father had over for parties than I did with kids my own age. There were a few in school I was close to, and related to, but not many. I have always been easy to talk to. Even strangers will tell me their problems with no prompting from me at all. I see a 'problem' from both sides. I am able to point them out when needed. Even with my friends, I was more often than not a sort of mother figure. I've been a mother for longer than I've had my children. This will explain my fierceness in protecting what is mine. My sisters, my friends, someone who needed a 'protector'. This is who I am, it is ingrained in me. This defines me. I think this is enough background to give you the picture.
  In my life I have had few friends, but I was fierce for those who were. I am going to give you the description of a family that lived near me. First there was Charlie, didn't pay all that much attention to him. He was self-sufficient and didn't need me. A bit of a dork. I still remember him fondly. His little brother Shorty. Who was actually taller. I think Shorty is almost 7 feet at full growth now. He was my age. I am the only person he ever allowed to call him Shorty without feeling insulted. He was protective of his sister, whom I will get to, with problems of his own. I guess this is what drew me. I have always been more comfortable with guys than girls. Guys aren't the jealous, vindictive creatures that girls, especially teen ones, are. He was very sweet, had a bit of a crush on me forever. As far as I know he still may. I hope he finds someone. He was a gentle creature, very tender feelings. He was very smart. He was dyslexic. His father was constantly telling him how stupid he was simply because he had trouble reading through no fault of his own, and frankly he tried very hard to do so. My friends are all like that...not the crush but most everything else. His sister Jackie is the one we are referring to in this story. She was a couple years younger than us. I think he told me once she was about age 10, in terms of maturity. She will never get beyond that. Shorty had big dreams. He played basketball merely because he was tall. It's too bad he wasn't that great at it. He wanted to be a professional because of the money it could bring. What would this money bring? A better life and better care for his sister. That's all. This was his main concern in all the years I've known him. He wasn't embarrassed to have a retarded sister. He loved her, so much.
  We aren't going to have a linear story, yet again. Let's get to that word 'retarded'. Man that word pisses me off. I don't like it. I hate that that's the medical word for it. What does this word actually mean? It means slow. That's all. Yet it is a derogatory term to some of the sweetest, kindest, gentlest people you will ever have the good fortune to meet. Personally I don't like to use a label at all. I use the word slow, I do not like it. I find it more acceptable than the other one. You know the word used in music means slow the tempo. I was a band geek. It made me cringe to hear it in that context too. I can't express enough how bad that word disgusts me. I heard it a lot. No, not to me, to those gentle creatures I was telling you about. I did have a reputation in school. I had it by association, but I did prove it once. You don't cross me or mine. You don't insult me or mine. You do not dare to cross me. And for a time it worked. It only worked when I was within earshot. But atleast these gentle creatures did not have to hear these insults, or be confused by them for a short time. It was the best I could do for them. The way the kids in my school treated them made me want to cry. It's not their fault they're different. Different is not bad. I was, and am still, a bit envious. I mean wouldn't it be nice to not have all the problems in your life off your shoulders for a while? They don't have to deal with the problems in life we face. It must be nice. Then you have on the other hand, sadness. They may never know the love of a child of their own. They may never have a loving partner in life. The expirience of dating. The many things we take for granted, they will most likely never know. It's a tradeoff. On one hand, they are very lucky, on the other they have insults, derision and the inability to have what we do. They were born that way, just as we were born the way we are. I like the term 'special'. Because, really they are. They are special, unique, loving, gentle. Befriend one, and you will see how much they have to give. Befriend one and you will never be sorry for it.
  Ok, back to the subject at hand. We rode the bus with Jackie. In general, she was a happy creature. I remember once, the guys on the bus thought to tease her. One of them should be her boyfriend. She would brag about it, not that she really understood what it meant. Everyone would laugh at her. Oh, the rage. I think this may be when I almost broke someone's nose. Like I've said before, you mess with mine, and you mess with me. You don't really want to expirience what I am capable of. He saw my rage and ducked pretty damn quick. He, nor any of them, ever did it again. I know they did not. She didn't lie. I had, in essence, adopted her. Because of my friend, and because of her. Their family life, I judge to be, was worse than mine. And that was pretty bad. Their father was a lazy bastard. He was on disability and always whined he couldn't work and had to be supported by the checks and welfare. Even in my area where most of the kids' families were on some sort of it, it's still a shame. A stigma. Kids are vindictive, vicious creatures. He whined all the fucking time. That asshole was constantly starting a new 'business'. Not the pay taxes sort of one. Usually it was something like I'll fix my friend's cars and they'll pay me for it. I've seen that man lift engines and shit. He was definitely not disabled. Not only was he like this, he was worse. He stunk to high heaven. I swear he didn't believe in bathing. I have no idea why his wife stayed with this asshole. He wasn't exactly nice. His kids were embarrassed to have friends around. He was a pig. His wife, who was stepmother to his kids, was a very nice woman. She tried very hard. She worked full time, overtime when she could get it. She tried to keep the house clean. She tried to take care of Jackie. Make sure she bathed, brushed her hair, and doing the period thing that even Jackie expirienced. Being young in her mind, I'm not sure what Jackie's reaction was when every month she would bleed from 'down there'. The woman was tired, she was depressed a lot, she tried so damn hard. You can imagine what this is like. My mothering instincts came out. I have given that man a piece of my mind. He didn't like it much. He didn't say much about it though. I was, god I hate this, gorgeous and his son had a crush on me. He thought I was going to be his very own. Ah, HELL NO! This man creeped me out. I don't know what he was capable of, but let me tell you, I was never alone and without my trusty baseball bat around him. And I am very good with a baseball bat. He was a big man too. I'm not stupid. There were others I had to deal with, so I know what was in this man's mind. I'm not telling you this to feel bad for me. I'm showing you something. You'll see. Even with all this, I took care of those two. To the best of my ability. With all my problems, with the creepy disgusting father, I took care of them. No, I don't want any: 'oh props to you' or whatever. I don't want, nor do I need that. I am writing this for a reason. So that anyone with a 'special' child will know. KNOW that even though their child will deal with the assholes around them, there can and will be some that will see them for the angels they are. There are some with all the problems that comes with peers and being a teen, some will see the problem. Some will stand up for their kids when their parents cannot be there to do it. Some will do what is necessary to see the 'special' one's ride of life is as smooth, without bumps, as it is within their power to make it. They will be cherished for who and what they are. Some will look beyond the stigma. The blog I mentioned: the mother was saddened. As her daughter had no friends, and noticed none were there. This is sad. What is sad is that the daughter noticed. I'll tell you, as creepy and disgusting as it would have been, if Jackie had had a birthday party I would have been there. I would have dragged everyone I possibly could there. My sisters, my friends, etc. You know, I even invited her to my wedding. I went to that creepy place and gave them my invitation. The father is an ass, but I liked Jackie and her stepmom for that matter. I really did want her there. If he was the price I had to pay for it, I was willing. Yes, even at my wedding, I did notice that she was not there and was saddened by it. I celebrate the important events in my life with my friends and family. She was not my friend. She was my family.
  I guess this preaching has come to an end. So now, think about what you have been told. Remember it's not their fault they are different. Remember to treat them with respect and dignity. Remember that they are quite possibly, the people who will touch you the most in this short life we all have. They are special. Do not forget. |