If you tell me my son is a curse or revenge from God, I’m not likely to react well.
Tonight I wrote a nasty note to a politician who, a few years ago, made such a statement. He later apologized, saying he’d chosen his words poorly. He did, however, go on to say that medical studies support the contention that mothers who have sinned, in particular by having had an abortion, are more likely to have a child with disabilities. Ironically, this politician is, in other regards, an advocate for the disabled on both a professional and a personal level.
But I digress.
I’m not proud of the note I sent tonight. It was crude and angry and, upon reflection, belied my own lack of sound judgment. Yelling at people online rarely does any good at all, even when you’re right, and I know this.
Except, this is my son, and he’s not a curse from God or Nature or whatever. And if you say things like that, no matter how you qualify it, you had better expect that some people, especially those actually raising children with disabilities, may not take it well.
I feel bad about having written the note, and in particular for letting his words get the best of me. I’m raw and I’m tired and I need a break. But that’s no excuse. It’s just what it is.