How Can He Feel Useful?
I have a son, forty-one years old, who has experienced episodes of psychosis on and off since his twenties.
For many years, my husband, I, and our other children have given what we could—not without mistakes—of our energy and love, trying to help him recover.
His sharp intelligence kept us from seeing how serious his illness was. My husband has since passed away, and our other children have moved forward with their lives.
Now he works in a community program and wants to fill his free hours with some activity that doesn't require manual skill, something compatible with his difficulty concentrating—something that would make him feel useful to others and, I hope, broaden his world.
How can someone with a mental disability feel useful?
I'm writing to ask if there are programs like this out there. Could he, for instance, write letters to children at a mission? Could he correspond with other communities?
Could he—beyond the faith he hasn't yet found—turn his painful experience into something of value?
- Signed Letter
Don Dario, a True Friend
In memory of Don Dario, spiritual counselor to Fede e Luce, who died at thirty, Giorgio Fusi—a young man with a disability and Don Dario's close friend—wrote these honest words:
March 10, 1991
We in the Fede e Luce group knew Don Dario.
He was a true friend to us, and above all, he loved honesty. For me especially, he was a particular kind of friend. He loved his friends and they went to him for good advice, and that worked well for us. But most of all, he loved going out and having fun with us; he loved the mountains especially, and he did rock climbing, and he really enjoyed grappa. He was a Bergamese and loved his city Bergamo, where he was born. Most of all, he loved the life he lived. He would go around Pontelambro and chat with everyone. Now that he is dead, we know he lives with us, the way Jesus did in his life. I remember when he was alive and I got along with him, and he always told me to tell the truth. I remember well that he was a fan of Inter because it was his beloved team. Don Dario loved his aunt Maria, who was like his mother. I remember when he went to Germany and sent me a postcard with the stadium in Munich on it and asked if I would go there. Now, dear Don Dario, now that you are in paradise, we remember you as you were, and I hope that from now on you will remember us. Now that you are in paradise, you will find our friend Pietro Lorini.
- Giorgio Fusi and Davide Schiatti
Fede e Luce Group - Pontelambro