Little Job's Book of Broken Poems

I wanted to share recommend a book, Little Job's Book of Broken Poems. It is written by a fevellow special needs blogger, Eric Fischer. I adore his realistic perspective sprinkled with witty humor.

Eric, writes "[This is] a collection of poems written during the fourteen years as primary caregiver for an extremely physically and mentally compromised boy - my son, and as responses to other children similarly struck down, from the blog, "I am a broken man/You can't break me".

Special Needs Moms

You may think us “special moms” have it pretty rough.
We have no choice. We just manage life when things get really tough.
We’ve made it through the days we thought we’d never make it through.
We’ve even impressed our own selves with all that we can do.

We’ve gained patience beyond measure, love we never dreamed of giving.
We worry about the future but know this “special” life’s worth living.
We have bad days and hurt sometimes, but we hold our heads up high.
We feel joy and pride and thankfulness more often than we cry.

For our kids, we aren’t just supermoms. No, we do so much more.
We are cheerleaders, nurses and therapists who don’t walk out the door.
We handle rude remarks and unkind stares with dignity and grace.
Even though the pain they bring cannot be erased.

Therapies and treatment routes are a lot for us to digest.
We don’t know what the future holds but give our kids our best.
None of us can be replaced, so we don’t get many breaks.
It wears us out, but to help our kids, we’ll do whatever it takes.

We are selfless, not by choice, you see. Our kids just have more needs.
We’re not out to change the world, but want to plant some seeds.
We want our kids accepted. That really is our aim.
When we look at them we just see kids. We hope you’ll do the same.

~April Vernon

I Know Different

by Tricia Proefrock

Dear mommy,

I have felt your tears, falling on my face.
Someone else might think they are tears of sadness, because of what I can't do.

I KNOW DIFFERENT.

I know those tears pour from your heart out of gratitude for me, because of what I CAN do : I can love everyone in the purest form possible. Unconditionally. I can be judged, but will never judge in return.
I know different because I feel, in your hugs and kisses, that I'm perfect just the way I am.

I have seen you hang your head down in shame, when we go out on adventures.
Someone else might think you are ashamed of having a child like me.

I KNOW DIFFERENT.

I know you are ashamed of the grown-ups who ignore me, yet talk happily to all the other children. The grown-ups who won't look you in the eye, but stare at me, when they think you don't see. I know different because I've seen the many, many more times you have raised your head up high, with pride, because I'm yours. : )

I have heard you whispering desperate prayers at night. Someone else might think you
are asking God to make me a typical kid.

I KNOW DIFFERENT.

I know you are thanking Him that I got to be here, with you, for another day- exactly how I am. I know different because I have heard you ask me never to leave you. And I have heard you cheer for me, every single day of my life- you tell me I don't need to be typical to be amazing, I just need to be here.

I know you have a big job, taking care of me.
I know your body hurts, because I'm getting so big.
I know that more than anything, you want to hear me say your name.
And I know you worry that you aren't good enough, and that you will fail me.

BUT I KNOW DIFFERENT MOMMY.....
I know that even on your worst days, you will always be enough for me, and I will always love you more than you know.

A Better Person

A Better Person

If you close your eyes you'll never see,
just how much she means to me.

All I ask from this day on, is to stand beside her and cheer her on.

She'll bring you places that you've never been,
and show you love from deep within.

She'll melt your heart a little more each day,
until it seems her disability has faded away.

But it's still there, i'll tell no lies.
It sometimes appears, to be in disguise.

You no longer see through rose colored glasses.
As this vision you once had, slowly passes.

The child you once thought of as frail and weak,
instead has made you implore defeat.

Her health sometimes may seem uncertain.
Yet through it all, she has made you a better person.


© Copyright 2011 by Janet Harrold