We often hear about the suffering of parents with a disabled child. But we rarely speak of the suffering of brothers and sisters of a handicapped boy or girl. These siblings are often "neglected" in their secret pain. They fear speaking first—both to their parents, afraid of adding to their already unbearable suffering, and to others, such as schoolmates, for fear of revealing a truth that often won't be understood. They're blocked by fear of being labeled as "the brother of a mongoloid, the sister of a spastic," and all that comes with the casual cruelty these names invite; fear that in expressing their own pain, people won't grasp the deep love they feel for that little brother or sister. So they stay silent, carrying alone a suffering that for some breeds shyness and self-doubt; for others, anger; for still others, an inability to concentrate at school; for some, dread of falling in love; for many, terror about the future—the anxiety that one day they'll have to care for a brother or sister when their parents are gone.
Brothers and sisters who found the courage to put pen to paper and pour out their experience
Brothers and sisters who found the courage to put pen to paper and pour out their experienceAll of this weighs on them, causes real pain, and yet they lack the courage to speak it aloud.
The testimonies that follow are voices of brothers and sisters who found the courage to put pen to paper and pour out their experience—or at least part of it—in hopes of telling other brothers and sisters: don't be afraid to do the same.
No matter how difficult the situation, it's worth the risk to talk about it with someone. If nothing else, you won't have to carry the weight alone.
With this issue devoted entirely to brothers and sisters, Ombre e Luci wants to remind parents and friends of people with handicaps how important it is to surround these siblings with affection, gentleness, and care; how wrong it is to ask too much of them, to demand too much; and how urgent it is to help them live their own lives fully, secure in the knowledge that a handicapped brother or sister can teach us to live better and to enjoy life with greater responsibility and maturity—but only if these siblings are not crushed by the weight or abandoned to face their profound suffering alone.
by Mariangela Bertolini, 1985