1973*

1973. It started out like any other year. The first day of the year, you relax. Nothing too strenuous. You don’t want to sap your strength right away, nor do you want to trust your luck.
But this year stated out with a pall laying over Marty and me. Neil and David are our two beautiful redheads. The eldest is 7 years old and our middle child is only six.
This leads you, the reader, to th realization that we have a third child, another son who is just a year old. It’s this child who has us concerned. Ira is to be hospitalized to determine why he hasn’t developed according to normal standards.
Ira hasn’t sat or stood. Hasn’t made a sound. Ira is gorgeous. Brown hair, brown eyes, the cutest nose! You wouldn’t think anything is wrong just by looking at him. Looks can be deceiving, but, also a blessing.
It’s time. Ira is admitted to Jackson Memorial Hospital. He has the very best pediatric neurosurgeon in the state.
Tests, night and day, tests. Back and forth Marty and I travel. Home, hospital, endless hours in the car, endless hours in the hospital. Our other sons hardly see us. One after another, EMG’s, EKG’s, blood tests, urine tests. Ira is a living pin cushion.
Then, one day, they have to tie his legs down to take a 24-hour urine test. Miracles of miracles – he sits up! What happiness, what celebrating!
I look around the pediatric ward. Look at all the other parents, look at their children. Whatever is wrong with Ira, it’s nothing compared to these other children. I count my blessings.
After a week of testing, Nothing. No determination. No result. He has minimal brain damage – no reason, no cure.
There are special people, people who bring joy, sadness, true love, children who teach patience, bring happiness to others. People who don’t demand anything from you. Just give true, unconditional love. Special people. People like Ira. God’s blessing. God’s special gift – Ira!
*I wrote this in 1973. I just wanted to share this with all of you.