On the cover is a beautiful dragonfly, its wings held still by four strips of tape. I picked up this book for my love of these insects, though I suspected it was about something else. That dragonfly is named Arianna. Perhaps she's the only one who doesn't suffer because of those wings that cannot fly—she's always had them this way. But those who watch her every day, her family, still have to learn to accept that tape.
Arianna is a child with severe cerebral palsy, the daughter of two neurologists who understand, probably better than obstetricians or gynecologists ever could, what happens in the hours after their daughter's birth. The story unfolds around Arianna—a story of her family, a "special family" and "differently normal," as it feels when you're raising a disabled child. Arianna herself is not the special one; those around her are special, whether they want to be or not.
The book alternates between voices: the mother, the father, the sister, and the brother. Different ages, different roles, conflicting and shifting emotions paint a picture both brutally honest and deeply moving. Without pretense, the authors admit that raising a disabled child is exhausting. Fatigue sometimes steals your breath. Yet beneath all the hardship and raw realism, an enormous love binds this family together around this small girl. And powerful is the force with which she, despite her grounded wings, teaches them the essentials of life.
Laura Cattaneo, 2016
