My Brother Marco

Andrea, 14, shares what it means to grow up with a severely disabled brother—and how daily struggles become lessons in unconditional love
My Brother Marco
Foto di Jan Huber su Unsplash
Archival content: this article was published more than 40 years ago. The language and content reflect the sensitivities of the time.

This article is part of the Focus: Profoundly Handicapped Adults—Some Testimonies

My name is Andrea. I'm 14 years old. I have four brothers. The oldest is Marco, and he is severely handicapped. I want to try to explain what it's like to have a brother in his condition.

He brings us a lot of worry because he can't take care of himself—he depends on us for everything. It limits some things for my parents. At night, for instance, they barely sleep because Marco wakes up many times. I share a room with him, but I almost never hear him because I sleep so deeply.

When he's not feeling well and we can't figure out what's wrong, we get anxious. But then he smiles, and suddenly we feel better.

To people who don't know him, all of this sounds very heavy. But for me, because I love him so much, it's become part of who I am. It doesn't weigh on me. Marco has taught me so much. He doesn't speak, but through his smiles, his faces, his shouts, he makes himself understood. It doesn't take much to make him happy—just showing him that we care. Because of him, I've met many people and made real friends.

Most importantly, he's taught me to love everyone and to accept people as they are.

Andrea Mangiavacca (Parma), 1979

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