Today, I encountered two distinct types of people. For a brief moment, I lost sight of the reality that often accompanies having a child with special needs. I suppose “forgot” isn’t quite the right word; rather, I set aside the myriad thoughts and emotions that swirl around my mind regarding Hunter syndrome and parenting my son, Noah.
As we strolled through our beloved local forest, the sun shone brightly—a rarity here in Ireland. I held the hand of my eldest son, while his younger brothers dashed ahead with their father, who was playfully pushing a wheelchair in a mock car chase. In that moment of joy, surrounded by laughter and the gentle rustling of leaves, I let those heavy thoughts fade away. I captured the moment in a photo, hugging Noah as he laughed and whistled away.
At first, I didn’t notice the family of four ahead of us. They seemed captivated not by my husband’s antics but by Noah and me. Oblivious to our observers, my husband asked if Noah needed the wheelchair or if he could chase the boys up a steep path nearby. I reminded him that we needed the chair close by, as Noah can’t always communicate when he’s tired.
As I followed my husband down the path, I felt the familiar weight of eyes on us. Noah, overwhelmed, began hitting and roaring, a manifestation of his condition. My husband quickly returned with the wheelchair, and we secured Noah, who was in the midst of a meltdown. Our younger boys stood back, accustomed to the reality that sometimes we must prioritize Noah’s safety over everything else. This harsh truth is something our family grapples with daily.
Once Noah settled down, I noticed two adults with their daughters on the higher path, staring down at us. It’s a feeling that always lingers—the sensation of judgment from strangers. Perhaps they were curious or concerned, but that doesn’t change how unsettling it feels to be scrutinized. As they walked away, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
After loading the boys into the car, we headed to the beach, determined to enjoy our day as a family. Living on the west coast of Ireland, we’re fortunate to have beautiful scenery at our fingertips. As we walked along the beach, I watched my sons laugh and play while we shared some biscuits, soaking in the peaceful morning.
Our middle son, Alex, is a budding photographer, capturing smiles and laughter, especially from Noah, whose personality is becoming increasingly rare to see due to Hunter syndrome. We settled on a bench, posing for pictures. Just as we were about to capture the moment, Noah lashed out, hitting my husband, which was met with surprise from a passerby.
“Would you like me to take a family picture?” he asked with a wink, completely unbothered by Noah’s outburst. I was momentarily taken aback but nodded as he snapped a few photos, bringing a light-heartedness to the situation.
“Family photos can be a challenge, even without a meltdown,” he chuckled as he handed the camera back. It was a refreshing reminder that not everyone sees us through a lens of judgment.
There are truly two types of people in the world. Let’s strive to be like that kind stranger, who offered a moment of joy amid chaos.
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In conclusion, it’s essential to remember that every family’s journey is unique. Embrace the moments, both challenging and joyous, and always approach others with understanding.