The First Time

Special children thrive in today’s society and sometimes they’re thrust into situations where the people they live with barely understand them. Understanding special children is not easy nor is taking care of them a breeze. It takes patience and understanding. How would I know? Well, I live with one and she’s my baby sister. Dyzelle was born on December 29 of 2004. She weighed 7 pounds and was the cutest bundle of joy in the nursery. Having her at home was like having a ray of sunshine – literally. Dyzelle completed our boring family of four. She was the perfect angel.
Yet, perfection never exists. By the age of 3, we began to notice that she wasn’t as talkative as other 3 year olds. Thinking it was a late speech development, my mom shrugged it off. However, by the age of 4, her attitude started to change.
A sofa moved, different curtains or a toy added to the crib caused Dyzelle to bawl which wasn’t normal. By 5, Dyzelle still did not utter a single word. She’d point to objects or “use” us to get whatever she’d need such as the cookie jar on top of the fridge. She hated hugs and kisses. She hated affection.
My mother fearing the worst, decided to bring her to a child psychiatrist. I remember that day clearly like it was just yesterday. The sound of my father’s tapping feet, white walls with posters of “special children” plastered on them and my mom’s sudden wail of dread, April 14, 2009 my sister was diagnosed with “Autism.” Unlike any other disease, this wasn’t easily cured with medications. Three years after, there have been better changes. She’s still having trouble with normal speech but hugs, kisses and laughter fill the house. Dyzelle taught me to take things one day at a time. She unconsciously taught me to deal with difficult situations. I simply think of her and imagine myself unable to convey the right words.
“And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time.” – Nicholas Sparks.