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Living with Luke 13

June 14, 2013


Acceptance. We all want it; some of us crave it to the point where we will do anything to get it. To some people the opinions of others are more important sometimes than their own dignity or self-respect and those who are willing to sacrifice these qualities are mostly seen as sad cases in need of help.

Needless to say – and who didn’t see this coming – I have always sought the acceptance of others. Maybe not so much these days, but even so…In my youth however, it wasn’t called acceptance, it was called ‘showing off’.

The dictionary defines acceptance as a ‘Favourable reception; approval or the state of being accepted or acceptable.’

But there is the other meaning of acceptance, which the dictionary also defines as the ‘belief in something; agreement’ where we finally accept that a situation or circumstance that we have been resisting for some time, is in fact, true. It’s that eureka realisation. A light bulb moment. An ‘Aha!’ flash of Enlightenment. Clarity. Truth. Clear thinking. A drawing back of the curtain to reveal the secrets that everybody suspected were there, but nobody wanted to admit to thinking.

So…Do I accept that I may never have a father/son relationship with Tiddles for the rest of my life and that he will forever see me as an intrusion, somebody who appears in the afternoon and annoyingly, tells him to go to sleep when he’s still awake at midnight?

And do I accept that Tiddles may never ‘love me’ as his dad – at least not in the sense we know the word Love – as I do my dad, or The Eldest Child loves me and just be grateful for the little glimpses of the son that I’ve lost?

Do I also accept that Tiddles will never have a modicum of independence and will be forever reliant on me to hold his hand when he walks down the street? Wash him? Wipe his bottom?

Do I then accept that some people may think that Tiddles is just a ‘retard’? Somebody that they cannot understand or pigeon-hole and therefore somebody to be feared as he gets older and bigger and decide to steer clear of my family as a whole?

Do I accept that Tiddles may never be socially acceptable, may never have friends, or be invited to events in case of a meltdown?

Do I accept that Tiddles may never come over from Narnia permanently and indeed may never WANT to come over to my land for more than just the odd fleeting visit?

Would I be advised to accept that Tiddles will always be the ‘special needs’ one and that I should also accept that ‘it could be worse’?

Do I accept all of these things and just ‘get on with it’?

Tiddles is my son. He’s my little/big silverback and he always will be. To accept these things would be to lay down my sword and surrender and whether he realises it or not, and whether he wants me to or not that’s not something I’m willing to do.

So…Do I accept it?

Do I F…


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  1. Dee permalink

    The real beauty of these children, is that they are in essence all that we would like to be, searingly honest, independent of others opinions of them, non-conformist to all the dictates of society and still the light of our lives

    • Absolutely. Everything is black and white. There’s no pandying to another’s feelings. They just tell it like it is.

  2. too damn right Steve; forgive me for quoting Allison again, but she is the person I know best who has an autistic child. Jonathan was deemed to never be able to do ‘anything’ for himself (bloody helpful, some of these doctors), makes my blood boil. But she persevered, not just with him (e.g. getting him to finally walk aged 4), but to get more respite and for longer, draw their plight to the attention of Gordon Browne, she even got a spot in Private Eye. She has achieved so much – simply because she loves him. I keep telling her that Jon is the clever one: no worries, no envy, no grief, just a nice, steady, innocent routine.

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