Permanently Disabled:Raising A Son With Special Needs

I took Willie to renew his photo ID yesterday at the friendly department of motor vehicles. Actually the lady who helped really was friendlier than I had could have ever expected. As I observed Willie struggling to sign his name 4 different times on all of the electronic forms, it dawned on me how hard it must be to live with a permanent disability.

Of course, it didn't just dawn on  me yesterday. Willie's hands just don't work. They never have. I try to describe his limitations to other people by imagining wearing thick mittens all the time. He has just recently been able to write his name in small letters, small enough to fit on those little computerized screens.

Two weeks ago, I had surgery on my thumb to help with debilitating and painful arthritis. Of course it is my right hand and that is my dominant hand. Living with a temporary disability, only being able to use one arm and hand, has  shed enormous light on all those who suffer from permanent disabilities. My respect for those individuals  has grown tremendously in the past two weeks.

While I watched my son Willie, struggle to write his name

on a small screen, I was really taken aback about what it must be like to live that way every day. As I struggle with my left hand to write words, my frustration and helplessness mounts and mounts. As I struggle to brush my teeth every day and to even put my hair in a clip, I wonder what it must be like to be like that all the time. And then I look at my son's teeth that are never quite clean, whose hair is never brushed, and I have a complete new understanding and appreciation of what it must be like to be him. To have a permanent disability.

Thanks to the talk writing feature on my iPhone, I am able to get this blog posted. For Willie to be able to use such technological advances, requires complex executive functioning skills that he too is lacking. But I'm getting ahead of myself. For that is a post  for another time.