Acceptance
[ Feature Stories ] [ Contents ]
The following touching story was contributed by one of our readers, Donnette Liotta.
For My Paco
I am a healthy twenty-three year old, born with normal
vision, normal hearing and normal speech. My twin sister, Dawn, was not
born so lucky. My mother was very young when she had given birth to my
sister and me. Because we were born so early we were placed in incubators
until we were three weeks old. While in the incubator, the doctor
administered too much oxygen to my sister. She was later diagnosed with
cerebral palsy, a nervous disorder which causes a malfunction in the sensory
motor skills and also brain damage. She had undergone several unsuccessful
surgeries to restore her sight which was completely gone in her left eye and
only 68% detectable in her right eye. Along with a slow developing brain,
and legal blindness, it was also determined that she was legally deaf in her
right ear. She had to wear braces on her legs and she had to walk with
crutches. She stuck out like a sore thumb connected to all these
contraptions, often causing people to stare and point.
While growing up a twin, I felt my identity was not my
own. I wanted to just be Donnette, NOT DAWN'S TWIN SISTER. We lived
in a small neighborhood where my sister was the only 'different' child. We
were both constantly picked on, and we never had any friends because of my
sister's condition. I began to loathe my sister, and I did everything and
anything to get her into trouble to get back at her being born mentally retarded
and physically disabled.
I felt like she was a constant thorn in my side.
I was embarrassed to be seen with her, so I made fun of her right along with the
other children. When I turned twelve my mother was so disgusted with my
behavior towards my sister, she figured I was old enough to know better, and
that I should love my sister for who she is, for that is the way God created
her.
My mother threw me in my bedroom and gave me a thick
yellow book which looked to me like a photo album. What I saw in that book
changed my life and my attitude about the way that I viewed my sister and other
handicapped people like her.
There were numerous baby pictures of my sister and I
dressed alike, the only difference: Dawn was hooked up to tubes and needles and
machines. She had her hands and fingers taped so that she would not
compromise the patch on her eye from surgery. She looked like a mummy.
I looked small and peaceful. There were also several pictures of the two
of us in the hospital until we were three years old. Once again, Dawn was
wrapped up in a glorified mummy outfit, with tubes and needles attached to her
everywhere. If you looked closely, you could see the pain reflected in her
eyes. The picture that stood out the most was a Polaroid snapshot of the
two of us in the crib hugging each other. The caption below read, 'I am so
happy to get a visit from my twin sister, Netti. The doctors make me cry.
She makes me laugh.'
I noticed one common factor in all of the pictures:
even though she was in a great deal of pain, and suffering so much, this baby
girl, who some would call a handicapped retard, smiled so big for the camera.
I realized then what my mother was trying to show me. I felt ashamed at
the way I treated her, and I cried myself to sleep.
Later that evening, my sister crawled over and woke me
up for dinner. I kissed her and hugged her and profusely apologized for my
behavior. She looked at me with uncertainty in her eyes. I knew she
did not know what I was talking about. But I knew, I knew.
From that moment on, I was my sister's protector.
No one was going to hurt her for any reason. If the children in the
neighborhood did not want to play with us because of my sister, so be it.
We would play with each other. We did not need them. We were
inseparable.
Now as I look back, I realize that I never once took my
sister's feeling into consideration. I did not want to know my own
sister's story of why. I was so caught up in my own selfishness that I
never saw her pain. I never put myself in her shoes. I never had to
struggle to do normal, everyday activities. I could run and jump all on my
own, without crutches. I never knew how blessed I truly was, or how
special Dawn is.
I know that I made it worse for her, because she longed
to be 'normal' like me. Strangers do not understand her because they do
not know how to deal with her, nor do they have experience dealing with her, so
they treat her indifferently. But I am her sister, her blood, and I should
have been there for her straight from the beginning. I am her other half,
just as she is my other half. When Dawn hurts, I hurt: that is the
unbreakable bond Dawn and I share. After all, I AM DAWN'S TWIN SISTER, and
she is my world.
'I love you, Paco!!'
[ Feature Stories ] [ Contents ]
I was an only child. For some reason it never occurred to me that I should have brothers and sisters, or did I ever miss not having them. I was a happy child never feeling deprived of anything. Since I was the center of my parent’s devotion I was a contented child, happy with my life.
My earliest memories are of being kissed and hugged. I remember my Mama’s soft, sweet fragrance. She smelled like "cashmere bouquet", the talcum powder she liked to use.
Perhaps somewhere in the back of my young mind I understood I was an adopted child and as such would not have brothers and sisters. When I was about 6 years old my friend Patsy informed me one day that I was adopted. I began to cry and my friend Billy T. G. rode me home on his bicycle. My mother took me on her lap and held me as I cried, while telling her what had happened.
She asked if it would make any difference to me and I said, "uh huh". In other word, yes it would. She didn’t respond but just continued to hold me and hug me, so I knew is was true. She never confirmed or denied it and my father never spoke of it to his dying day.
As far as they were concerned I was theirs and later my mother would tell me she couldn’t believe I didn’t actually come out of her body. I was 10 days old when my mama and daddy got me.
Patricia Louise Carberry
Missouri, USA