Been There, Bought the T-Shirt

Rocky Mountain National Park

Adventure #2 After Cuchara/Bear Lake, we headed north to RMNP. This is the view from the top of Trail Ridge Road. ...And do you see the sign Paul is standing next to? 

Yes, my friends, he is standing at 12,005 feet above sea level. No wonder there are T-shirts in the gift shop that read, "Got Oxygen?" Oh my goodness. I had to breath aerobically and pause a lot but I too made it and so I bought a T-shirt that said, "I made it to top." 

LeeAnn got one too, exactly like mine, but she didn't earn it. About one-third of the way up this stack of stairs and asphalt walk, she just sat down. Paul, my RN husband, said she's not gonna make it! I thought if we took our time, she could, but when she sat down. I thought, Yeah, maybe not. So I walked her back down and Paul went on up to the picturesque position and some kind woman took his picture.

What she did get to see was this magnificent Elk. He was just lazying a few feet from the path/stairs we were struggling to climb. 

I couldn't help but think of my oldest son. He lives at 300 feet above sea level in Austin, TX. How hard would this trek have been on him? Of course, he's twenty-three years younger than me but still...

Ah, I digress. We stopped at most of the scenic overlooks and walked around, snapping pictures of the cute chipmunk, the unique birds, the amazing flora and the striations in the granite rock fascinated me so much I took pictures of it too. Downed trees created amazing artistic photos of which I cannot wait to frame. I'll be quiet now and just let you look at the pictures.

It was beautiful. We had never been here in Rocky Mountain National Park before, but we will definitely be back. Although it rained every day between two and four, it still was an unbelievable vacation. We all three had a wonderful time and at least two of us hated to leave. LeeAnn is always ready to go home. She likes her own routine and doesn't have "need" of a vacation like we do. However, she really enjoyed this trip. We stopped in Littleton, CO to see a dear friend on our way up there. (Hi Pam!)  

Monday, we left the park to go see our Aunt and Uncle in Wheatridge, CO (Hey, Aunt Dorothy, Uncle Fred, thanks for lunch!) and on our way home, we stopped to see our cousins in Boulder, CO (Howdy, Bryan, Anne, Carolyn, thanks for the coffee and cantaloupe.)

I have to admit, home looked good when we pulled in at ten-thirty that night, and our bed welcomed us with open arms! I love our memory foam mattress! Our cat was thrilled to see us and promptly and properly chewed us out, although she wasn't alone, exactly. Our son had held down the fort nicely while we were gone. I praised him for keeping the kitchen clean. 

I'm not sure where our next adventure will be, but we have taken a map of the USA and put green map pins on the places we want to go, and two red pins on the places we have been (that is--where we have been together, in this White Water Retro Trailer). It's all a simple matter of time and money. Oh well.  We've got time between Paul's off days and vacation days, we'll be heading out again, and I'll be writing about our...

Blind and Deaf Adventures with LeeAnn

You can count on it.

What am I, Chopped Liver?

or...The Invisible Sibling

Being a sibling of a special-needs person, at least for me, was to be invisible. 

Before either of us went grey!

It's interesting when I search the social medias by using #specialneeds. The hashtag renders many, many supporting groups for moms, parents, social workers, counselors, and teachers of special needs children. But, so far (and I'm not saying I've done an all-inclusive, thorough search) I haven't found anything targeting us siblings.  It's as if we are invisible.

Which is funny, because it's been that way all my life since LeeAnn was born.

It is us, the siblings, who help raise the special needs child. We take up some slack for our parents by entertaining our sibling with simplified games, tuck them back into bed when they crash our slumber parties, and we know in the end we will be the one who takes care of our special-needs sibling after our parents pass. And yet, the world, the teachers, the counselors, and even our parents see right through us as if we were not even there. As if what we do is expected to the degree that it is not noticed.

Oh, I get it. I got it back then, too. Even as a seven or eight year old, I realized her circumstances
were way more interesting than mine. I was a normal, healthy child. I had no special needs, or limitations, other than my near-sightedness. I was fine.

Really, I was.

I wasn't jealous of the extra attention she got and needed. In fact, I was proud of the uniqueness of my situation. Nobody else had a sister who was blind and deaf, with a hole in her heart.

I had boldly announced this as I circled my third-grade classroom the first day of school when our teacher prompted us to make the circle and introduce ourselves. I remember the teacher's reaction was one of shock and possibly embarrassment. She said, "Well, you didn't have to say all that."

I thought, "Why not? That's who I am."

In my college speech class, when I was asked to write a speech telling something interesting about myself, I wrote, "The most interesting thing about me is not actually about me. It's about my sister..." I proceeded to tell LeeAnn's story. The students were, indeed, fascinated.  Because it is fascinating how LeeAnn has grown up and is thriving.

I get that!

But do I have to be invisible?


When LeeAnn was around three, people came to our house and interviewed Mom. Later, there was an article in the newspaper about LeeAnn. It had a large picture of her, with her Orphan-Annie curly head of hair and watery-blue eyes, staring, cross-eyed, at the flame of a candle (She loved candles back then. Her bangs were always singed slightly from her long gazes at a lit flame. More about that in another blog.). And it mentioned me! Well, it mentioned LeeAnn had an older sister named Linda.

Yeah, that's not me.

If that wasn't frustrating enough, kids at my school came to me and said, "Hey! There was an article in the paper about another kid like your sister..."

"That was my sister," I retorted. "They got my name wrong."  After all, how often is your name mentioned in the newspaper when you're a kid? Once, for me, and they got it wrong.

Another time, we drove to Oklahoma City to meet with a well-known doctor who had a program for special needs children like LeeAnn. My parents were very serious on the drive down and I was instructed to be on my best behavior. So I tried to be.  But, when the man walked into our sterile, plastic chaired waiting room and my mom and dad introduced themselves and me, the man was so focused on LeeAnn he completely missed what my dad said. You see, Dad said, "...and this is our daughter, ..." but the man heard "...this is Barbara."

He continued to call me Barbara for the rest of the visit. I was so embarrassed. When the doctor wanted to get me and LeeAnn out of the room (you know, adult talk), he said, "Barbara, will you take LeeAnn out and show her where the water fountain is? ... Barbara...Barbara!"

Oh! me!  I responded and took LeeAnn out into the hall.  I wanted to crawl under the tile and hide in the car. I had wanted to make a good impression, as my mother had emphasized, but I felt like I came off as an idiot.

Later there was another article about LeeAnn attending the school in Austin. I wasn't mentioned in that one at all, which was fine with me, because they probably would have gotten my name wrong again. It was less frustrating to not be mentioned at all.

***Flash forward to today***

Okay, so that was then and this is now. I've grown up and I'm fine. I have raised four children. I have ten amazing grandchildren (at this writing, three are still in the oven) and a wonderful husband, my in-laws love me, my church family loves me, my friends love me, and I am a published author.

I have a blessed and happy life. I've made a name for myself. I am not invisible...

This blog is my opportunity to reach out to other siblings.

This is the portrait Mom and Dad had made
for their fortieth wedding anniversary. July 4, 2004.

It's never easy unloading the baggage of the child within. I call her Little Lynn. She's still very insecure, seeking her own moments for attention and love. I know Mother did her best with what she had to work with, as did Dad.

Somehow, I got left out.  Just like this "family portrait" they had made in 2004 for their fortieth wedding anniversary.

...and what's funny about that is LeeAnn was the one who said to our parents, "Lynn!" Meaning: Lynn should be in the family picture. I was surprised and happy when Mom called and asked me to join them for a family portrait. It was later I learned they had already had one sitting before they realized (or was reminded) I should be included.

Fortieth Wedding Anniversary, July 4, 2004

As we load up our travel trailer and head out on our adventure for more altitude and less attitude...and cooler temperatures in Colorado, I want to emphasize this one thing: I'm not telling you all this as an invitation to my pity party! No way. I'm just reaching out and sharing my story. I am sure other siblings completely understand and have stories of their own. I hope this reaches some of them and I also hope they, and you, will comment below. I'd love to hear what you think. I'd love to hear others' stories. Surely I'm not alone, or invisible.