My only brother is severely mentally disabled. He’s 35 years old and has the overall abilities of a 3 year old. He doesn’t speak or read, can’t comprehend complex directions, doesn’t dress himself, rarely uses the bathroom himself (and has his share of accidents), and has a mild seizure disorder. He is very uncoordinated and often breaks things, either by accident or as a simple result of childish behavior. He communicates by grunts, hand gestures, facial expressions, laughs and cries. He sometimes eats things that are toxic, and has had multiple stomach surgeries. He lives in a residence for adults like him, at a cost shared by my parents and the state. He requires constant supervision. By any dictionary definition, he is indeed a “burden”.
My only brother is the most emotional person I know. He expresses joy in the most jubilant way possible, laughing and pulling people together in group hugs. He appreciates the simple things in life: a funny slapstick moment on TV, a dog licking his hand, a visit from his brother. His smile makes everybody around him smile, his laugh makes everyone else laugh. He has a very endearing personality. When something upsets him, the rest of us feel bad because he can’t comprehend what just happened or why. My life can be so stressful, yet I’ve learned to essentially live vicariously through him and simply enjoy the moments through the eyes of someone who doesn’t comprehend anything more.
I don’t know why Daniel is the way he is, but I do know that he is the reason so many other people are the way we are. We are a bit more sympathetic to those who can’t help themselves, a bit more appreciative of the good things around us, a bit more tolerant of those who are less able.
When I was younger, I dreamed of the day when he could somehow be “normal” and I could have a sibling to talk to and play with like all of my other friends did. Today, I know that won’t happen, but I couldn’t imagine Daniel being anyone other than who he is, He has meant so much to me, to my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and my cousins, and has shaped our lives and beliefs for the better. Is he difficult to handle? Of course. Would I be absolutely devastated if something happened to him? Absolutely.
My point is this, Sagwabetes: in our day-to-day lives, we tend to only look at our day-to-day needs - what we ask of ourselves and what we ask of others. We tend to lose sight of the larger picture, how important we are to others and how we, unknowingly, help others. But people need us, rely on us, love us. I’ve been diabetic for 30 years, and I’ve sometimes felt like the “burden” you speak of. But I’ve seen the other side as well, with my brother. People don’t necessarily contribute to society by the inventions they create or the money they raise. The most important contributions can be simply by the interactions we have with others, and the lessons and thoughts that those other people walk away with.
It took a lot of courage for you to write this post, and your four sentences are more powerful than my long ramblings of meandering thoughts. But I hope it helps you to believe that you are not a burden, and you are not a useless waste of space. Unless you are a pure evil-doer (which I’m sure you’re not, those types have reached international infamy), you mean something to somebody. Your living with diabetes has inspired somebody. Your expressions of guilt have come as companionship to someone else who feels the same way, and feels alone. You’ve been open and honest, and inspired others to be the same.
We need you here. Please understand this.
