Many, many thanks to "Where Hope Grows" for sharing this story from "The Mighty" on their Facebook page. How My Son with Down Syndrome Fixed a Hotel Problem I Couldn't

How My Son with Down Syndrome Fixed a Hotel Problem I couldn't

In our house, we are big fans of Where Hope Grows

If you have not seen this movie, you have missed a blessing. It's available here:

Where Hope Grows

and here: 

Where Hope Grows

Word is, you can also find it on Barnes and Noble, and at Target, Best Buy, and a host of other locations. 

Now. Let's talk about The Mighty on Facebook. This is where you can get your daily cup of inspiration. Stories written by people just like me. People who face everyday challenges.

What do I love about the The Mighty? Well, just about everything. I love that it's a bright spot in an often too dark world. If you are looking for a pick-me-up, here you go. While you are at it, why not share it with your friends, and pick them up too?

An official shout out to The Mighty ...  What you do matters more than you will ever know. Thanks, thanks, thanks, from Life With Charley

A Word about BIRD

On the hunt to find another bird. This one came from Cracker Barrel...that place that costs money every time I walk in, and I don't mean lunch.

If you read my book, then you know all about "Bird."

If you didn't, then let me enlighten you...BIRD repeats everything Charley says. Twice. So just in case you weren't sure you heard it right the first time, BIRD repeats it. Sometimes this makes Charley happy, like when he and Bird are watching a movie together.

Charley will say, "See dat?"

And BIRD will repeat him. "See dat? See dat?"

Sometimes BIRD makes Charley mad. Like, when Charley is mad at me, and he goes to his room to tell me off. 

Charley says, "Mom mean."

BIRD says, "Mom mean. Mom mean."

Or when Charley lets a cuss word fly. "Dum it!"

BIRD says, "Dum it! Dum it!"

That's when he doesn't want me overhearing. He'll say, "Sut up BIRD!"

And Bird will say, "Sut up BIRD! Sut up BIRD!"

I guess you could say that besides his DVD player and his tape recorder, BIRD is Charley's favorite toy. So much so that it has cost me, and cost me...batteries, and more batteries, not to mention that BIRD cost us $20.

Well, today tragedy struck. Brad and I are having our coffee, and here comes Charley. He's crying. "Mom, BIRD broke."

Oh no.

He holds BIRD out so we can see. Sure enough, his head was dismantled and it's wires were sticking out. BIRD had to go. But not before we promised to see if we could get him another BIRD.

I know this is wrong, but I am sitting here praying that we can find him another BIRD.

See, BIRD is not just a talking toucan...it's Charley's best friend. So when he said, "BIRD broke," he was saying "My best friend broke."

So yes, it's Sunday...a day of prayer and meditation. This is the Lord's day. It's also a trip to Cracker Barrel. 

Can I ask you to say a little prayer that BIRD, or at least his twin will be there? Waiting for a beautiful, sweet young man named Charley to give him a good home?

And as Charley would say, "Kanks."

Gwanny

There is an old song, titled "Till There Was You."

It's one of those songs that stays in your head. You find yourself humming it in the shower, smiling a little at the thought of someone special. Someone who changed your life.

But what if that someone is gone? What if you don't know how to explain it to your precious child, that the person they loved so much is gone? And where did that person go?

I was faced with this a couple of weeks ago after Mom, Charley's "Granny" passed away. Theirs was a special relationship. When Mom was here, they Skyped every day, and did their share of laughing at each other.  He would tell her of some infraction I'd committed, like making him clean his room. She would tell him he better get busy and he'd laugh out loud.

There was no limit to how much Mom was amused by Charley. She laughed at him on a regular basis, and he loved it. They both had big personalities...and yes, the two deserved each other.

Charley and his Grammy. Or, Gwanny, as he called her.

Charley visited his Granny at the nursing home a week before she died. He sat in her favorite chair, and withdrew into himself, watching her. He didn't have to say a thing...his face said it all. The fear of losing this important person in his life was unthinkable. It's still unthinkable.

So he buried his head until he finally wore himself out, and fell asleep. 

Mom told Charley she loved him, and he kissed her. 

The next time he would see his Granny, it would be at the funeral home, where I made a HUGE mistake.

Us parents of people with Down syndrome. Or should I just say, me. I'm so afraid of scaring him. I want to shield him from life - and death.

There was no viewing, no closure. Just an urn.

How do you tell someone with an extra Chromosome that the person he loves is in an urn? I wasn't prepared to explain cremation. I'm barely prepared to think about it, much less put it in words my chromosomal son can understand. 

He looked for her. 

Of course he did.

"Where my Gwanny?"

"She's gone to heaven, honey," I said.

"Where is she?"

"She's with the Lord."

"I want to see her."

He wasn't the only one. She would have known what to say. Me, on the other hand? Not so much.

After the funeral we headed out to the gravesite where we released a single dove. 

"Where Gwanny?" he said again.

"See that dove?" I said. "That's Grammy. She's flying up to heaven to be with Bobby (Dad)."

"No, not." 

He looked at me like I was an idiot. Or, at least, a liar. Grammy hadn't turned into a bird. Just who did I think I was talking to?

There wasn't much I could say.

So we didn't talk about it. We did what all of us McCaulley's do - we withdraw, and think it will go away. And it did.

Till yesterday, that is.

We were sitting in the den, and he was eating oatmeal pies.

Out of nowhere, he started to cry.

"I miss Gwanny," he said.

I've known this was coming. He has delayed reactions.

"Granny loved you very much, Charley," I said.

"I love her," he said.

"I know you do, honey."

"Pwease, call Gwanny."

"I can't sweetie, Granny passed away."

He cried some more. I kissed him. Held him.

"You'll just have to Skype with me, instead," I said.

And we did.

He went to his room, and called my cellphone.

And called it,

and called it,

and called it...

I suppose it takes what it takes.

Now he's calling me. And calling me. And Skyping me. And Skyping me. And...

It's driving me crazy. And yet, it isn't.

Mom would have like that.

Thanks, Mom.

RIP, Gwanny

A Christmas Stocking for Charley

Charley, the day we brought him home

Hand knitted by Mom

December 14, 1990, Brad and I and headed to Texas. We came back as a family. Two short weeks later we headed to Louisville, KY to introduce the family to our new life.

Who would have thought that a tiny baby boy would change the lives of so many?  

There’s a mystery to Down syndrome. There’s no textbook that can tell you how to do it. It’s a learning curve, and those of us who sign up (or are blessed through the miracle of childbirth) quickly find out it’s a gift that holds surprises for even the most seasoned parent -- one we continue to unwrap every day.

Now, twenty-five years later, I’d like to share that gift with you. 

The following is an excerpt from Life with Charley: A Memoir of Down Syndrome Adoption "A Christmas Stocking for Charley,” is the first chapter of our lives as an adoptive family. My publisher, Zharmae Publishing Press, has made it possible to share the first two chapters of my book with you.

Just scroll down and find “A Christmas Stocking for Charley.” 

Here’s the link: First Readz First

Its become tradition that I post this story every year, in honor of Charley, and Mom. If you’ve read it, then thank you. If you haven’t, then thanks for taking the time. Please pass it on and spread the CharleyLove!

Merry Christmas, and blessings, from Life with Charley!

Charley and his Grammy

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Sherry Palmer is the author of Life With Charley: A Memoir of Down Syndrome Adoption

Please visit Charley on his Facebook page at: Life with Charley - and Down Syndrome

Celebrating National Adoption Month

Here at Life With Charley we have lots to celebrate during National Adoption Month.
#lifewithcharleyanddownsyndrome

Here are just a few reasons...

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Sherry Palmer is the author of: Life With Charley: A Memoir of Down Syndrome Adoption

You are invited to read the first two chapters free, at: Zharmae Publishing Press

Thanks for stopping by our little corner of the world...Please, share with your friends. Thanks!

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@1pageturner: @isdonn #NationalAdoptionMonth #AngelsInDisguise @AshleyNMe1 #downsyndromeadoption

#AngelsInDisguise   #NationalAdoptionMonth  #InternationalDownsyndromecoalition  #Downsyndromeparents #worlddownsyndromeday

Have You Read "The Case for Conserving Disability"? It's worth your time. (See my post for the link)

I watched a program on Hitler the other night. The countless lives that were ruined by a fanatical maniac with no regard for the humanism of others is so disturbing — the way one person's into,era vie for the "different" influenced so many to the point that those in his regime abandoned their ability to think for themselves — brainwashing so many — creating killing robots on a mission to eradicate the “different."

On the same evening, I read a brilliant post. The Case for Conserving Disability, by Mark Leach. In the post, he sites a piece written by Rosemarie Garland-Thomson.  

I couldn't help but think about how different my life would have been if it hadn't been blessed with something "different." How the association with "differentness" Down syndrome has hopefully made me a better person, and how it has made me question (frequently), what disabled really is. And finally, how I've often wondered who gets to decide what disability means. Does it mean physically? Mentally? Emotionally? Spiritually? 

The author of this post makes an excellent case for disability. Anyone who loves a person with a disability knows how it demands all of you (meaning,the care-giver). No one says it is easy. But this post raises some good points. Here are a few things that jumped out at me...

1.  "It is well-established that the non-disabled have a much harsher view of a life with disability than those actually living with the disability."

Isn't that the truth? I have yet to meet a cynical or sarcastic person with Down syndrome. That is not to say they don't get mad. To the contrary, Charley and I are FIGHTING this morning. Even so, I know from experience, that our disagreement will be short-lived. He is, by nature, a fighter, but even more so, he is a forgiver. His love is stronger than any fight or disagreement we can create. Here’s another newsflash: In this time of political bickering, you’d never find him slinging mud at anyone. I know few certain Presidential candidates who could learn a few things from my supposedly “disabled” son. 

2. In her article, Garland-Thomson makes this point; “I began to understand since my daughter’s birth: we are all disabled in one way or another, and will “evolve into disability. Our bodies need care; we need assistance to live; we are fragile, limited and pliable in the face of life itself. Disability is thus inherent in our being. What we call disability is perhaps the essential characteristic of being human.”

I’m glad she brought that up. Isn’t this the gift of the disabled? to show us how disabled we all are? That in some way, we are all broken? 

3.  This point is demonstrated by Garland-Thomson’s reference to a wonderful on-line piece written by Chris Gabbard about his profoundly disabled son August (who recently passed away). “Gabbard observes that many ‘well-meaning people would like to put an end to August’s suffering, but they do not stop to consider whether he actually is suffering.” Gabbard admits caring for his son likely limited his professional career, but it expanded his understanding and experience of the world. “Ultimately, August’s gift to Gabbard … is what any human relationship provides to any of us: the ‘opportunity to profoundly love another human being.'”

Again, I’m glad she states what many of us parents of Special Needs children (adult or child), are already thinking. 

What power these human beings have. The ability to show us what love really is. The power to call us out of ourselves. Out of our population of one, where we are prisoners of our own egos. It’s a mighty lonely place, when it’s just me and my ego. Not a whole lot going on there but me. And more me. Living with Charley has taught me that life is not about me. It’s meant to have purpose, outside of the me-oriented.

Truly, living with a person who is considered “disabled” is our ticket out of the depths of ourselves.  Some of us are thrown into it, some are called to it by choice. Either way, it’s an opportunity. To even entertain the notion that society would be better off without these tender souls is unthinkable.

Brad (my husband) and I have been painfully aware of the extra demands of having a child with Down syndrome. There are those who have judged us. The things we do, the things we don't do. The ways we don't always get it right. Not by everyone, you understand. We don't feel this big conspiracy. It's simply a case of expectations and whether or not we have been able to live up to those expectations. So has it held Brad back? Yes. Has he been criticized? YES. Are we sorry we adopted a child with a disability? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Would we have it any other way? NO.

Yes, there is a “Case for Conserving Disability.” If Mark Leach’s article didn’t convince you, and I’m certain that it does, perhaps you might want to read Essay: Arguing Eugenics, by Mardra Sikora. 

Grounded in research and personal experience, Mardra Sikora's "Arguing Eugenics" extends beyond the subject of genetic testing (for the purpose creating a society free from the burden of Down syndrome) and into the heart of a world in danger of eliminating much more than an extra chromosome. As a writer and mother of a young adult with Down syndrome myself, I applaud Sikora's ability to lay out the facts while making the reader think with their hearts through the logic of her son Marcus.

"Arguing Eugenics" takes a subject often written about in medical and technical terms, and fine tunes the lens to so those unfamiliar with Down syndrome can see clearly how whole communities would suffer the consequences of eliminating often the most compassionate among us. If I were to sum it up, I would wager to say that a world without Down syndrome is a world in danger of reducing itself to breathing in and out. While Sikora does not glamorize naïveté regarding special needs individuals, be it children with cancer or those who are born with spinal bifida, rather, she is a realist who sees the value in every human life, while charging the rest of us to do the same. What gives anyone the right to decide who has value and who does not? What gives anyone the right to decide that another human being is a burden? I agree with Sikora one-hundred percent, no one has the right to set that criteria. 

Our lives began the moment Charley came into our home. I shudder to think of a life without Charley in it.

Can you imagine a life without this?

Or this?

Or this?

It's been a good life. A worthwhile journey. As my husband says, "I made the decision to love a special needs child." 

And so did I.

If that makes us less, then so be it. Truth is, disability is a gift. As the article says, we are all destined to disability. It's the circle of life. One day we will all need care. But we all have ability to change someone's life, just by being in it. 

Charley has Down syndrome. He is not broken. And neither are we. In more ways than I could possibly say, we have been healed by that 21st Chromosome known as Down syndrome.

Perhaps we should be less concerned with what is "different," and more concerned with our calling.

As for me, I have two working knees. They don't always work as if they were still 25, but I hope I use them every day to thank God for the “disability" I’ve been blessed with. 

And I hope that you do too.

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Sherry Palmer is the Author of Life With Charley: A Memoir of Down Syndrome Adoption

Please visit Charley on Facebook at: Life With Charley - And Down Syndrome

Thanks for stopping by! 

Please visit us on Facebook!

Please, if you haven't already, visit Charley on Facebook:
Here's the link: Life With Charley - And Down Syndome

Thanks! See you in the ChromoZone!

#WorldDownSyndromeDay #Adoption #WDSD #SpecialNeedsAdoption #SpecialNeedsParenting

To The Person About To Adopt a Child with Down Syndrome - The Mighty

New Post today on The Mighty. Thanks for reading!

Day 26 of the @theidsc #idsc2015 photo challenge (21 things)

#downsyndromeawareness #photchallenge #idsc2015 #dsawareness #downsyndromelove #tagsforlike

Twinese King

 Ming and King of the Twinese

There should be some reward for going to the Doctor's office.

First reward: No Thomas Center. 

In CharleyVerbiage, this stands for Sertoma Center. Not that he doesn't like the Sertoma Center, it's just that he likes the idea of not liking it. After all, what fun is it if you get to get out of something you like?

Reward number two: Van ride.

Usually Brad has the van. But when we take a road trip to the Dr. office which is located in Vonore, it takes us a little over an hour, so we take the better wheels. My car is fine, but it doesn't have the bells and whistles. For example, the doors don't slide open and shut by pushing a button. The trunk is a trunk, not a hatch, that opens and closes when you push a button. And let's face it, buttons rule.

Reward number three: CD King.

The first half hour of the trip is spent with Amy Grant. And me. Singing at the top of my lungs. No, I can't sing like her. No, I don't care. No, I don't feel sorry for anyone who puts their hands over their ears while I'm crooning. Unfortunately, there comes a time when even Amy Grant takes a back seat to High School Musical. 

And since I'm driving that means someone else is in charge of the CD player, and according to Sir Charles of Palmer, that makes him King. High School Musical it is. Then Lion King (we'll keep that one), Tarzan (yep, that too), Cher (Believe), and of course, Annie (The original Soundtrack), and our all time favorite, Grease. He sings the Danny part. I sing the Sandy part.

"Mom, you sing-a-ling," he says.

I think he means ding-a-ling.

Once we've been through each and every favorite song on these CDs, we start all over again, minus Amy Grant, which I've packed back in it's jewel case and tucked back into my purse to keep sticky fingers from giving it a new home in the black hole of his bedroom, never to be seen from again.

Reward number three: Breakfast

On the run, of course. Because what fun is a road trip without coffee and hash brown crumbs all over your new jeans?

Reward number four: Lunch

After the better part of an hour arguing that No, we are NOT eating at that Chinese Restaurant he just can't get enough of. The conversation goes something like this:

Him: I hungry, Mom.

Me: You Just ate.

Him: I starving here.

Me: Where would you like to go? (Big mistake) 

Him: Twinese

Me: We are NOT going to that Chinese restaurant and you know it. The food is loaded with carbs.

Him: Yes I are.

Me: Let's go get a salad.

Him: Twinese.

Me: No way.

Him: Yes way.

Long pause.

Me: Who died and left you King?

Him: Twinese King.  That's me.

And so it goes. All the way from Vonore, through Maryville, the outskirts of Knoxville, down Merchants Rd., onto Broadway, through Fountain City, and into Halls. Salads everywhere. Panera to the left, Friday afternoon, no Sertoma, no Work, and here I am, stuck in the van with this dude.

In his defense though, there's a reason he likes this restaurant. First, he can eat as many plates of chinese "spaghetti" as he wants. Second, the owner, "Ming," calls Charley by name. "Cha-lee." They have become friends. And I must say, it is fun watching Ming and Charley banter back and forth. Charley will be eating, and Ming comes along and says something to him in Chinese. Then Charley tries to repeat it. "Chakalaka laka aka aha!" While some may think Charley is poking fun at the Chinese culture, I assure you, every time he attempts to speak Chinese it's a term of endearment. 

And why not? People with Down syndrome are the epitomy of grace. Charley is a grace-filled man who believes in acceptance. No matter who, no matter what. 

Ming gets this. He accepts Charley too. It's a wonderful thing to watch when two people from different walks of life open their hearts with no expectations. 

Still, there are these things called Sesame Chicken, Sweet and Sour Chicken, General Tsaos chicken, Soy sauce, and those cute little sugary donuts. Yum, Yum. And of course, Ming, who places himself beside Charley's already overloaded plate to say,  "Mo skettie coming, Cha-lee."

So little time, so much Twinese!

But that is then. And this is today. I'm behind the wheel, which means when it comes to restaurant selection, Mom rules.

I tell him NO. For the last time, NO. We are NOT doing Chinese.

He reaches into my purse, takes out the CD case, pops Amy Grant into the CD player, and turns up the volume.

"Sing, Mom."

And just like that, it's Good bye Lion King, hello Sing-a-ling. 

And, Ming. 

If I dare say, that's using the old Ramen Noodle.

Ming lights candles on Charley's birthday cake for his 25th birthday on Sept. 29th

Getting ready to blow out the candles