Valeria Responds to Monica's Letter (Issue 93)

Dear Monica,
Reading your letter, I saw so much of my own story as the mother of a disabled child. The pain, the sense of injustice, of being misunderstood, of uncertainty that swept over us when my son fell ill—these things marked my life and my family's forever. I recognized the fear I saw in those closest to me, their reluctance to face the "problem." My own parents felt it. My dearest friends felt it. What I'm truly grateful for is this: by seeing myself in your experience, I've come to understand how much has changed. Nearly ten years on, I realize that the people I thought had abandoned me were simply struggling too. They needed time to come to terms with what had happened. They were moved by my pain but uncertain how to help. They had to learn how to relate to a person they no longer recognized—even though they had loved her for years. It's true that I owe my strength to others. I owe them the smile I managed to wear, strained as it was, in those early days. And yes, those people became the friends I now hold closest. But I've also been surprised—and deeply grateful—to find my way back to old relationships. My grief had blinded me so completely that I couldn't see the suffering of others, or I wouldn't acknowledge it. Over time, I learned this: raising a disabled child doesn't make us better than anyone else. The moment I understood that the struggles of other mothers—mothers of children without disabilities—mattered just as much as mine, my whole life opened up. That's when I began to grasp the real lesson our children teach us about love. It took time. Even now, certain things people do or say still hurt. But I no longer divide the world into those who were there before and those who came after, the religious and the non-religious. Every day I'm amazed—and grateful—for the small kindnesses my son receives from complete strangers. Thank goodness they balance out the blows we mothers take from other strangers. We're all just human beings. Valeria, 2006

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Your words are an opportunity for other parents who read Ombre e Luci to find both conversation and comfort.