"If only I still had my mother..."
"When my mother-in-law was alive, everything was better!"
"Thank goodness the grandparents take him with them sometimes..."
"Only Grandpa knows how to handle him the right way!"
I have heard these words countless times. I have listened to many parents — especially the younger ones — tell how, after their first shock and resistance, grandparents became precious helps, indispensable supports in the hard work of welcoming and raising a disabled child. Some offered comfort; others gave practical help. Some brought the wisdom that comes with age.
But there are parents who never found this support. Perhaps the grandparents lived far away, or had already died. Or — and sadly this is not uncommon — they were simply not able to give it.
This issue of Ombre e Luci is dedicated to grandparents: whether they are parents or in-laws, they have suffered greatly alongside their children at the birth of a disabled grandchild. If these pages move them to continue or begin offering their precious help, they will surely be repaid with the love and gratitude of their children and grandchildren. To close oneself off in pain or resentment only causes harm and leads nowhere. But to transform one's suffering slowly into devotion — that can enlarge and refresh a heart grown weary and discouraged. It can offer, at least, a tender memory to those who remain: a tenderness that is unique and irreplaceable. Is that not enough?
Let us ask for this tenderness together, for all, but especially for grandparents, from that Child who comes and who alone knows how to turn "our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh."
- Mariangela Bertolini, 1997