It Matters
I took away so much last week at a young lady’s beautiful memorial service. The profound obituary for twenty year old Hadleigh written by her heart-broken mother served as the framework for the eulogy delivered to a rapt audience. Samantha’s words should be used as a lesson plan for teachers or parents trying to instill compassion in their students and children. I read and re-read it several times in disbelief that our former neighbor, the sweet little girl I knew as a 5 year old, had departed this earth, but a few sentences really made me pause and reflect. It’s impossible to make sense of why a soul comes into this world with constant struggle and pain so I’ve given up on that. What I have not given up on is the message of compassion (I never will) and trying to make Hadleigh’s struggles mean something.
“People would often stare or look through her”.
I’m taking Samantha’s words and running with them. All parents of kids with disabilities, whatever the disability may be, can relate to this. It is terribly painful to be ignored, excluded or looked through. And that pain is magnified exponentially when a parent sees their child ignored, excluded or looked through. You brought that child into the world to be respected and cherished for who they are, not be treated as transparent because of a physical or developmental condition they did not ask for and over which they have no control. I’ve experienced this quite often over the years with my sons. I know this pain, it feels like a heavy weight that never gets lifted.
“Gift a smile.”
Which brings me to another of Samantha’s beautiful phrases: “gift a smile.” This simple phrase is packed with so much wisdom. A smile is the exact of opposite of looking through or around someone. A smile communicates to another person that you acknowledge them, that you care, that you may not understand but you empathize. And it is so easy to do. It is truly a gift: it costs nothing but can have such a positive impact on another person’s day. As the Rolling Stones put it in one of my husband’s favorite songs “a smile relieves a heart that grieves, remember what I said.”
“It Matters.”
And one final phrase from Samantha that simply and directly hit the mark: “it matters.” So powerful in its simplicity. Two small words that when put together resonate loudly. Even momentary interactions with kids (or adults) with a disability matter. A lot. A simple gesture can make a world of difference. In her tribute, Samantha described the loneliness Hadleigh experienced because of her physical disability as “bone crushing”. That description is so brutally honest it hurts to read or say it. And if it hurts to read or say it, all I can think of is how much that loneliness hurt Hadleigh every day. And then I think of the millions of disabled people experiencing every day the same “bone crushing” loneliness as Hadleigh and my heart breaks. So my sincere hope is that as many people as possible will read Samantha’s words, reflect on them, take them to heart and act on them. We all can do better and so much more. We have the power to make someone’s life better. That would be a lasting tribute to this unique and wonderful young woman and how she lived her all too brief life. It matters.❤