March 30, 2023
Be Kind
Be kind.
It’s just a statement. Really quite simple when you think about it.
Two words.
A direction. A request. A plea. A wish.
You can find it anywhere these days.
On t-shirts. Hats. Bumper stickers. Tote bags.
I was just sitting here thinking about kindness.
See, I am a mom of four kids, one with a disability.
He is 12 years old now.
We are long past the wonder of the diagnosis. Past the in-between space of is he or isn’t he. Past the sting of forever.
We have settled in. We have made a home with him at the center.
All of us. Mom. Dad. Brothers. And a sister.
We have been immersed in a world that I often call a secret one.
We see unbelievable joy. We see heartache. We see cruelty. We see stares and smiles. We see understanding and judgement.
We see smirks. We see love. We see the gifts that he brings to our world.
That happens when you belong to a person who is different than the rest.
But be kind. That sentiment.
Why do I wear it on my chest?
Why do I whisper it in my 10 year olds ear every single time he gets on the bus?
Why do I think…‘please God, let them be kind to Cooper,’ every time he leaves our world to go to school?
It’s simple really.
It’s because I can’t ask you to understand autism. You haven’t lived this life.
I can’t ask you to know how every milestone, every outing, every sound that he makes is a gift. Every time he goes to a store or walks around a zoo. Every single second we worked for. None of these things were given to him. To us.
I can’t ask you to know that he flaps his arms when he’s happy and holds his ears when he gets nervous. Or that he loves men with beards and bald heads. That waving is his favorite. That he can’t always control the sounds that come out of his mouth.
I can’t possibly know if you’ve had a bad night or didn’t get your morning coffee. Because see, I don’t know your life either.
But I can ask you to be kind. And to see a boy. A yellow haired boy who was 9 pounds when he was born. A boy that we prayed and hoped for. That is loved and treasured. That is absolutely perfect to us.
A boy that is different than you. Than your own children or grandchildren or neighbors.
I can ask you to pause before judgement or annoyance or rudeness and to simply…be kind.
That’s why we say it and wear it and preach it.
Because we can’t expect you to know our story but we can hopefully expect kindness.
Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook.
