Sean
Some time ago, I wrote about Sean.
He is that kind of kid – inspirational.
Sean has Cerebral Palsy. When I tell people that, they say they are sorry. An elderly friend always refers to him as ‘Poor Sean’. There is nothing to be sorry about. Far from it. I’m not saying I’m glad he is the way he is – I’m not. Of course it would be great if he could run around and chatter away. But then he would be ordinary. And he wouldn’t have given us that Something Special.
It is exceptionally unlikely that Sean will ever walk or talk.
He will never run a race. So what?
He will never write a book. The libraries are full of books.
He will never drive a car. The road has enough cars.
He will never give a lecture. do we need another lecture?
Most people can do these things.
But how many people can inspire pure love? How many people can make you happy just by their presence? How many people can, without saying a word make you feel that the world is a better place?
People may say that Sean is a ‘special person’. Sean is Sean. The only way he is special is that he has turned everyone who knows him into special people. We care for him. But we care for each other more too. He has made us softer and more gentle. He has brought out the caring in us. He has made us more tolerant.
In my own case, I do what I can for the Jack and Jill Foundation. They looked after him and his mother so well when they needed help the most. Even though Sean is no longer on their books [because they provide respite care for the parents of young babies], I still want to help them [and they are always in need of a few bob]. They do fantastic work, and without Sean, I probably never would have heard of them.
They helped our K8 when she was in crisis, when she was coming to terms with being the mother of a disabled child. Now she is just the mother of Sean. We don’t see him as disabled. We see him as a lovely, loving child. Mind you, he’s nearly six now, so he is a young boy.
Sean may not talk to us, but he talks to the angels. He sits quietly, smiling to himself. He will laugh with us. Sean will never ever laugh at us. But I think he can see a world that we can’t see.
Sean having a good laugh
Sean – the world would be a much poorer place without you.
Inspirational stuff and it left me, like I was when K8 wrote on the topic, speechless.
We write about him because he is inspirational. It’s very hard to describe in words, but he has changed all our lives for the better. It is only when you get to know someone like Sean that you can really understand what we are trying to say.
He looks like great fun Grandad, and it’s obvious he’s loved to bits.
Very nice tribute to the wee lad. He is one Sean I am proud to share a name with
Grandad
The day K8 wrote about Sean I was having a BAD day. It was put into perspective by that post very quickly. I now have Sean’s picture on my desktop. When I am trying to solve a problem or sort a worry I go back to my desktop, sit and talk quietly to Sean and before I know it the problem changes from a boulder to a tiny pebble.
Thank you Sean and to your family, for allowing us into your life.
I had a nasty *cheap wine* head on me this morning as I packed Sean into the car to go to his respite centre. I was grouchy and felt pretty sorry for myself. On the journey, Sean sneezed three times and went into fits of giggles that lasted practically the whole journey. Other motorists must have thought we were crazy to see us in such convulsions of laughter! He’s a dose 🙂
Lovely post Grandad. What a wonderful boy and lucky to be so loved!
Sounds like Sean has a very special grandad too! Too often grandparents don’t understand disabilities and miss out on being part of the life of a grandchild with a disability. Way to go Sean for having such a cool and loving grandad!