IGNORANCE

Yesterday I went to the doctor for a prescription renewal, and as I entered the building, a middle aged woman and her two teenage sons stood at the entrance to the stairway going up to the doctor’s suite. The lady was speaking in a loud stern voice and the two boys were just standing there. One Boy was on the first riser and one on the ground floor, next to his Mom.

I wiggled my way past and went up the steps to the doctor’s office, and waited my turn, a few people were waiting ahead of me, and I thought I’d just make myself comfortable. Sitting next to the door, which was open I had a clear view of who was coming and going on the staircase, and it helped to amuse me while I waited.

Suddenly there was a loud commotion, and I quickly recognized the voice of the woman I ran into down stairs a few moments ago. One of her boys was about 14 or 15, heavy set, good-looking fellow with bright eyes and black curly hair, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and seemed normal to me at first. His brother, dressed similarly was somewhat larger, close cropped hair about 17 or 18, and from where I stood, his face was somewhat distorted around the eyes, looking far away and confused, maybe even frightened. Once the older boy reached the top of the stairs before his mother, he took off for the next flight up, and his Mom yelling, gave chase.

Corralling the two boys and entering the doctor’s office, the younger fellow was instructed to sit down in an empty chair next to two older women in their late 40’s or early 50’s. The larger boy, about 6 feet tall and weighting about 275 pounds laid down across three chairs, leaving no room for the mother to sit, who standing, filled out some forms for the doctor.

Sensing that she had her hands full, I offered her my seat, but she politely refused, thanking me. There was a young fellow who sat across the room and stared at the poor women and her children, and these two ladies who sat side to side of the younger boy.

Suddenly I was feeling terrible for the poor woman. She was dealt a terrible blow, and I wondered how horrible it was and would be for those two young fellows. The younger boy had Turret’s syndrome, was speaking out loud, with his legs spread apart, hands behind his head and rocking vigorously back and forth. One of the women next to him was giving him dirty annoyed looks that he never even saw, but he just continued to calm himself in that manner. The larger boy arose and wanted a drink, somehow communicating it to his Mom, as she tried to lead him out of the waiting room to find a fountain. When he stomped his foot refusing to budge, the whole room shuttered and shook, the old building feeling its age, but the Mom, took firmer control and lead him away.

After leaving the office on my way to my car, I couldn’t help remembering those days when my poor wife, TLW (The Little Woman) had those very issues, facing a child who did not reason, facing a crowd of people who did not wish to reason, and trying to face the reason why her child had to suffer so. When I saw that poor woman with two heartaches, I was thankful that at least TLW didn’t have to face that.

If you see a woman out there with a handicapped child, stop and think about her broken heart, her shattered dreams, her lonely world, and maybe just smile at her, it might just make her day. And remember, the child is and will always suffer; a smile in his direction is a gift. A kind act is a candle that will punch a hole in the darkness of sadness.

Thanks

joedelbroccolo@yahoo.com