We revisit, yet again, much to my dismay.....the "R" word

If you were to enter my home this moment, do you know what you would hear? Do you? Well, I'll tell you. You would hear: NOTHING. Yes, I said nothing. Except for the rhythmic ticking of my mantle clock, the light whirring of the washing machine and slight static emanating from Zoey's monitors, there is silence. That my friends, is unheard of, no pun intended, around here. Jess and Matt are running errands, Mark and the boys are at the park and sweet Zoey is down for a nap. With Taylor back at school and Danny, Caitlin and Charlotte in San Diego, that leaves me, all by my lonesome. Heaven to some but to me, don't know quite what to do with the down time.

We went to church this morning, got cleaning out of the way afterwards, ran to the grocery store, made lasagna for tonight and yeah, here I sit. Me and my thoughts. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I figured I would post and leave the evening computer free, and as I sat here and contemplated what to write about, the same topic kept resurfacing over and over again. I have debated on whether or not to post about this. Caitlin wondered if tainting this place, Zoey's site was the right answer, in fact as a family we have discussed what we would do with the events of the week, if anything. In the end, I went back to my original intent of this blog. Some blogs are strictly a venue to keep families and friends, that live a distance apart, in the loop. For some, this is a timeless record of daily life events, a scrapbook so to speak. Still some, find blogging to be a perfect forum to educate, vent and share, with others or simply a place for yourself, perhaps no one will ever see what is written. For me, it is a combination of all of the above. And when my heart is the heaviest and I am looking to sort out and process, often this is the place I end up. So today, in the silence and stillness, I write.

Blogging and Facebook are all good. Well, usually good and usually harmless. But least anyone forget, they are often public. For anyone to see. So when one decides to vent, share, converse, one better keep in mind that you are not, unless you have taken measures and precautions, in a private forum. On the contrary. All the world can see what you write. And like it or not, you are left open to receive the opinions, asked for or not, backlash, like it or not and judgment, right or wrong.

In the instance I am referring to, I was able to see a disturbing conversation, between two of my relatives, that basically culminated with the dreaded "retard, retarded" word being dropped. Hello?? Does anyone, who knows me, at all, think I would just skim over that and let it go. I owe it to all my little loves and big loves for that matter, who have no voice of their own, to stand up to the often misused, as an absolute, no other word for it, insult. Does Zoey have "mental retardation?" Yes I suppose she does. That is the medical term used for people with cognitive, developmental delays. I get that. But when you start throwing out ignorant stereotypes, all at the expense of these beautiful HUMAN BEINGS, that is a whole other story.

So I wrote a very brief Facebook message to the two said parties and said, and I quote, "This is Heather, mom to "semi-retarded", Zoey. The conversation brought to my attention, SICKENED me. It speaks to character and heart." End quote. There was one little part I left out for all reading this, to possibly spare these two the embarrassment, of everyone and anyone, knowing who I am referring to. The responses I received looked nothing like admissions in lapse of judgment but rather indignation that I would have the nerve and the audacity to call them out. But,when you decide to make jokes and remarks in reference to my child or any other child or person, directly or indirectly, and their intellectual capabilities, or lack there of, you will hear from me regardless of whether you are family, estranged or otherwise, friends or complete strangers. I have done it in the past and I will continue to do so. My daughter gives me the courage to speak out and the confidence to confront people even in and most especially, in an uncomfortable situation.

The events that transpired, or rather the text messages and emails I received in rapid succession, are not fit for print. Seriously. I received 16 text messages. To which I responded only twice. 4 messages had sentences that looked like this " ...blah, blah, blah you retard." 4 messages, from a blood relative, that called me, Zoey's mother, a "retard." One said, "grow up and fight your cause with those who will listen because no one I know wants to hear your bullsh** anymore." My cause? You bet it is my "cause." Zoey and advocating for her and all others like her, IS MY CAUSE and I will continue and continue and continue to address hurtful and hateful people, like this, every chance I get. Mark arrived home, to read the messages, responded with one text to above mentioned person, to which he received 17 messages, under 10 minutes, that were more evil and hateful then the ones I previously had received. None were responded to. How does one fight such hatred and ignorance?

If this is in fact the the ignorance and hate that I must fight within the confines of my own family, I often wonder what awaits us later in this great big world. I have to hold on to the unwavering belief that good will prevail. My faith tells me so. My child, who possesses, such pure innocence, tells me so. There have been many moments over the last almost 3 years, that I have thought how lucky Zoey is. How lucky she is that she will not know the sadness and injustices of this life. That she will be protected, at all cost, from the cruel, inhuman acts of others, in deeds or words, by us her family, that will stop at nothing, to shelter her from harm. Always.

So in the stillness of this Sunday afternoon, I chose to write. And now, the house begins to bustle once again, with laughter and love. Everyone pouring in from their afternoon activities, all making a b-line to Miss Zoey, for hugs and kisses, I know I did the right thing. My stillness was well spent.