Strictly Speaking

Greetings to everyone, and with thanks to all our blogger friends, new and old, here are some more photographs from a corner of old England for you to enjoy. These pics, like last month, were taken in Devon. The crystals and bloom in the stream were Amanda’s contribution.

Last month I told you that one of the people helping to push my wheelchair in Devon was my brother, Philip. This was not, strictly speaking, the case. In fact he was just holding on to one handle to help steady his feet while Luke did the pushing, very slowly.  Philip suffered severe brain damage during a minor hospital operation in childhood, and as a result of this he can neither talk, feed and dress himself, or use the toilet. In fact he is totally dependant in every sense for all of his needs. Despite all that, he was kept, loved, and cared for by the family. He has become a wonderful character in his own right, and has the merriest laugh for miles.

Sadly, those responsible for his suffering refused to own it, and my father failed to find a solicitor willing to seek justice from the  mighty medical profession. It was 1955 after all.

Our parents harboured no anger that I was aware of, they were resigned to the facts. My mother, in fact, was a nurse in the NHS for many years before moving into pharmacy a couple of decades before retiring. Their choice to keep and care for Philip, however, brought many blessings, along with monumental challenges, plus undue social pressure, from time to time, to have him institutionalised.

Every day, in my profession, I met parents of children who suffer like Philip, and I was always deeply touched by their faith and fortitude. Since our parents passed a few years ago, I have never doubted, not even for one tiny instant, that they have been greatly blessed for lives so unselfishly lived.

The good do good and get better. The wicked do bad and get worse. One day, our accumulated choices will sweep us to a personal destiny, where fair acknowledgements are guaranteed.

Most folk might feel, quite understandably, that this is a story of misfortune. For me, however, Philip has been a very valuable teacher. His love and courage opened my eyes at a very young age, and it is miraculous that he has lived such a long and active life, contrasting his predicament. Therefore, despite outer appearances, I consider myself most blessed.

Since our parents graduated, Philip has gone to live, minutes away from us, with friends in the countryside, and is very happy indeed. He visits regularly, with his ever laughing eyes and mischievous smile.

I don’t know who wrote the following words, but the writer, indeed, was quite right.

Why are there so many handicapped souls on the planet today?
When an individual perceives another as handicapped, it would be helpful to perceive that same person as an evolved soul. Disabled individuals are “able” in ways that a normal person is not. They see beyond illusion and know what is true and what is false. These souls anchor the energy of unconditional love in a conditional world. 

With all that said, may the world revolve in peace, until next time, Namaste from Amras.

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