Literate for a Day
Someone or something you can’t communicate with through writing (a baby, a pet, an object) can understand every single word you write today, for one day only. What do you tell them?
Dear Cousin Judy,
Today I can communicate with you and you can understand me.
Growing up, I would watch you as you sat in your wheelchair- unable to talk, move, or even eat by yourself. I often wondered what ran through your mind. I wished that I could say a prayer or wave my hand and make you like the rest of my cousins so that we could laugh and talk together. The doctors thought that you would not live this long; they said that you do not have any understanding or thought process. But your family knows differently because we hear your attempted laughs when something humorous is said. We hear your cries when you hurt or are sick. However, I still do not know how much you have understood over the years.
Now, I have this one chance. A chance to talk to you through paper. A chance for you to wholly understand what I am saying.
I want to first of all apologize for the way people have treated you. You probably have felt the stares and noticed the way people fear you because you are different. Those who do not understand mental and emotional illnesses either stay far away or laugh at those afflicted. So I want to say that I am sorry for that. Your kind heart has probably already forgiven them because you see things through a different pair of eyes than they see through.
I want to tell you that you still are valuable and precious. Even though some “professionals” would say you should have never had a chance at life; you were placed here for a reason. Your brothers and sisters have grown into beautiful men and women because of having you in their life. They too had to work through the pain of stares, laughs, ridicules, and hardships; but it has formed deep character within them. God thinks you are special, even if humans try to say that you aren’t. I wish that you didn’t have to suffer so much in this broken world. Have you ever wondered why you couldn’t play outside like the other children, why you couldn’t join in on Saturday-night pizza parties, why you couldn’t fall in love and raise a family like your siblings are doing? I’m sorry for all that you have missed out on, but I want to tell you that one day everything will be made right. Judy, one day you will be able to walk and talk and sing and dance because you will be perfect. I can’t wait for that day to stand by your side as we sing praises to God for erasing all the wrong, hurt, and sin that was brought into this world and caused so much pain.
I want to let you know that you are loved very much by your family. Your mom and dad spent many hours in feeding, changing, and bathing you. They have faithfully taken you and your wheelchair with them wherever they go, but it is not just a chore or duty that makes them do it. They do it because they love you very much. Your siblings appreciate you and do not think you are worthless. And I love you too, Judy.
I will probably never get this chance again to communicate in a way that you can fully understand here on earth; so I shall look forward to meeting you in Heaven some day where there is no barrier in communication. Until then, thank you for being a part of our family.
Love Your Cousin,