Love Archives | A Million Beautiful Pieces

A Million Beautiful Pieces April 7, 2020

Love is strangely complicated and yet purely simple at the same time

Today nineteen years ago Michael and I said, “I do”. This morning when we lay in bed, reflecting on our journey, we marvelled at how far we have come. Love is strangely complicated and yet purely simple at the same time. We feel that we are in two places at the once; still newly weds and yet we know so much more than we knew about each other on our wedding day.

We recounted the valleys, and there were a few; and we talked about the mountains we are climbing, and we wondered about the ones we have yet to climb. We thought about the people who stayed with us, and those who we have lost.

I especially struggle with my anniversary because it was at our wedding that my parents’ marriage began to unravel; and what I remembered for a long time about the first year of my marriage was their divorce.

I don’t remember long lazy mornings lying in bed, or walks down sunset lit streets, or suppers that became breakfasts. Instead all those moments were consumed by the pain of watching my parents marriage dying while mine was being born. I felt guilty, frustrated and confused. I remember the agonizing pain that I could not escape from no matter how much I wanted to. Overnight from being in the bliss of marriage we were thrown into the role of elders; caring for everyone else but each other.

During this time I was still grappling to come to terms with Savannah’s diagnosis and the disintegration of my family. Michael was learning to be a father to Savannah, son-in-law and brother-in-law to a decaying family and a husband to me. Savannah started school at an early intervention center and not at the local pre-school as we hoped; and we began the emotional rollercoaster as parents to a child who was labelled “ineducable” and a “person with profound disabilities”.

It is amazing when I recount that time; because if we thought that was going to be our only challenge, we were wrong. We faced Savannah losing her ability to walk independently and Darren (my brother) becoming an amputee. Those two tragedies still bring us to tears. Then Michael was retrenched at one point leaving him without a job for one year. Savannah underwent over twenty procedures under anesthetic and anniversary celebrations and date nights were repeatedly put aside to pay medical bills. Between our three children, we have been with them in medical theatres about thirty some odd times in nineteen years.

We fought for services for Savannah, fought for our right to try different ways to help her live her best life, fought to be understood and accepted as her diagnosis and changing needs made us aliens in our families and faith communities. Amidst all the deep paths that we ventured, God blessed us with Talisa and Eli. The joys in parenting our three children became our lifeline and our lives.

We did not sit together much because one of us was outside at events with Savannah or with one of the other children when they were too little to sit still. Or either of us (mostly me because I was home with the children when they were little, and needed a break) attended events while the other parent stayed home because we were too exhausted when Savannah did not sleep for days or when we could not afford to buy new clothes for everyone in our family to attend an event.

We busied ourselves in church activities, awareness programmes for people with disabilities and tried to be available to anyone who needed help. We put our hands up to join committees or babysit for other couples. All of this was good and we made good friends, but all of this was not always necessary.

We are both opposites in many respects. Michael is an introvert where I am an extrovert. He is unyielding when he believes that he is right, and I of course am right! So that makes for interesting discussions. Just kidding. But we both have our own ideas and do not need to agree on everything.

He is not romantic while in my head plays a perpetual playlist of love songs. He is a meat eater while I am a pescatarian. He wants to watch Manchester United and I want to read Jane Austen or Karen Kingsbury or Marian Keyes. He does not dance, and I was born to dance. Oh, but he sings. He wakes up every morning humming a song.

All dressed up for a rare night out back when our children were younger.

When we look back at what unfathomable storms, we weathered with little to no support; we know that we are a witness to God’s divine hand over us. We hold each other with humility for the times we missed out on, when we did not show up in the ways we should have. We embrace with a deeper respect for the others’ strength of character. We come apart to each other; knowing that we are safe indeed.

I thank God for our different seasons. But mostly, I am thankful to God for holding us together through it all. I am thankful that in all my joy and all my pain; being Mrs. Pillay continues to take on a deeper and more precious meaning.

What we know to be true is that love is strangely complicated and yet purely simple at the same time. We are thankful for a love built on the one who first loved us, Jesus; and we are thankful to Him for giving us this secret for our marriage:

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” – Galatians 5: 22 and 23

Happy 19^th Wedding Anniversary to my endless love.

Now I am off to make our favourite meal, a Thai style stir fry (meat option and vegetarian option) which we will enjoy in the tranquility of our garden, listening to the soundtrack from our movie ‘Con Air’. That is our story for today: love during the time of lockdown (can’t help trying to play off the title of a favourite book of mine ‘Love during the time of Cholera’ – by Gabriel García Márquez. I highly recommend it.)

A Million Beautiful Pieces February 11, 2019

Our Lives Are One Big Puzzle by Erin Hanson

When we measure life by success and failure, we lose so much of everything in between. We lose the essence of the Million Beautiful Pieces that make the puzzle that is our grand masterpiece. Erin Hanson is The Poetic Underground and she writes a beautiful reminder about being present in every moment of our life.

“Our lives are one big puzzle,

We don’t know how many pieces we’ve got,

There are people that fit in quite nicely

And people who try but do not,

We’re constantly adding more pieces,

All the memories of things we’ve been through,

We add laughter and tears and adventure,

And the lessons we’ve learnt to be true,

Everyone has their own puzzle,

There will be ones where you do not fit,

Don’t you ever dare make your piece smaller,

Just so you can live there for a bit,

If you keep cutting off all your edges,

One day you won’t recognize what you see

And you’ll forget the person you once were,

Before the world told you who you should be,

Make the most of each piece in your puzzle,

It’ll be a grand masterpiece when it’s done,

So you won’t have to look back when it’s over,

And realize you’ve left out the sun.” -e.h

Sometimes we need to be reminded that this life is not about meeting a set of criteria set by other people. It is living in tune with who God created you to be: A Grand Masterpiece.

My Inspiration November 27, 2018

My Inspiration: There is ALWAYS Time to Dance

Today Savannah is reminiscing about the wedding last year when I was the MC and I danced a special dance.

Now that I work from home, it is a mixed blessing.

My children and my husband love having me around and I find we are using our time more productively. I wake up everyday excited to meet the day. I can’t remember ever feeling like this in my whole life.

For those families who have a child with a disability, you will know why this dynamic is precious. My daughter Savannah is witty and funny and kind and thoughtful. She is also different in her way of thinking and feeling.
She is my ever-long learning course. Teaching me all that I don’t know and often after working hard at understanding her point of view, I come back to the realisation that I just can’t reach all the depths that her mind wanders too. As an autistic person, she sees life in a way that I work very hard to understand; only to find that I fail.

So often I fail. My struggle to keep up with the “normal” world collides with trying to grasp her view; and I become frustrated, and angry at myself. At her. At this life and it’s persistent demands. Yet, I have to live in both worlds. I have to try so hard to keep up with life so that I can be part of it’s rat race and try to earn a living to provide for all our children.

Governing all that we do, like so many families like us, is that we must try very hard to earn more than a living.
We must provide for Savannah long after we are gone. And that is what keeps me awake till the early hours or gets me out of bed long before the sun rises. Working from home while also being a caregiver, a companion and all that encompasses being Savannah’s mother, is my “more than a conqueror” daily challenge.

If I could stay at my desk all day, I would not eat or drink because truly writing feeds me like nothing else does. But my reverie is broken every time when Savannah calls me. Sometimes what she needs is reasonable and makes sense that she called me. Other times, she calls me to tell me something so far off base from the moment that we are in, that I throw my hands up in the air and proclaim out loud that I don’t need to know the tit bit of information that she is supplying. She doesn’t grasp that I can’t know what goes on on her head and so we tussle with memories until I either get what she is on about or I give up and walk away.

For example, a month ago she suddenly jolted to March 2014 and for several days, she recounted everything she remembered about that time. Everything. Details like what earrings I wore and who we saw. People who I have long forgotten. She remembered their earrings, their watches and who said what, when and where. As I fight back the urge to weep for what feels like the hundredth time that she calls me to say something that I cannot see the relevance in; I ask myself if anyone else lives in so many spaces all at once? And if so do they survive themselves?

Right now, I am in the middle of writing about Domestic Abuse for the UNWomen’s Campaign and it takes me back to times in my life that I have closed the door on. Yet, now at forty, the shock of what I was allowed to be privy too as a child, washes me afresh. I have several other writing projects underway and a new client who I have to do some research for. So my mind is a little more than preoccupied on a daily basis.

Then Savannah calls. Again. Not being sure if she needs physical assistance or if it is just another newsflash from the past; I walk to where she is because that’s my life.

Looking back over the years, I’m most in awe that while I was trying to glue my heart back together as a teenager who learnt too much about the hypocrisy of the adults around her, I somehow kept my sanity as I became Savannah’s mother. Over these twenty-two years I’ve listened to the same story that my heart didn’t have the words to utter when Savannah was little. Parents grappling with the heartbreak of the unknown as their child begins life in a world designed to set itself against them. The most competent of people, crumble as they understand the force that will be required to help their children live their best lives.

Each time, I’m stunned anew that a girl like me became Savannah’s mum. What was God thinking to trust me with her? It has never been easy. There are days when I wish I did not know of the things I have to know. But I survived and I have learnt how to thrive right where I am. Having Savannah at eighteen was probably the worst thing to happen in a life already falling to pieces. Yet years later I understood that being Savannah’s mother saved my life. Who knows what I would have become, had I not have to fight for her in all the ways imaginable and unimaginable? Would I have known how to fight for myself or for that matter would I have known that I could change the course of my life?

Even now as I try to juggle housekeeping, children, writing, keeping up with everything, Savannah calls. She is now remembering December 2017. She wants to play the song I performed at my cousins wedding. I’m not in the mood for this and I grumble something to that effect.

As I walk away from her with the clock ticking and the checklist running in my head of all that I have to get done today, I hear her say: “Pretty mum the wedding. My mum good dancer. Well done.”

Savannah and I decked out at a wedding last year.

I can’t help looking back at her as she gives me a big grin. Maybe I am wrong again. I don’t think I am looking after her at all. I think she is looking after me. Drawing me away from the square boxes everyone is fighting to fit themselves into.

If you have heard me speak you will know that one of my key points is that there aren’t answers to everything that life throws our way. For those moments, there is always dance.

And so as Savannah played the song “Tere Bina” from the Bollywood movie Guru for the umpteenth time this morning, I took my own advice; and I danced. She clapped and squealed and made her happy sounds.

No one ever tells us that the lines of our broken hearts, make for the most polished dance floors. Or that dance is meaningless unless someone gives you a beat to dance to.

Disability Advocacy November 20, 2018

Parenting: Being Courageous even in Uncertainty

This past weekend we attended our friends sons’ birthday party where they had an amazing Wild Animals Educational show. My daughter, Savannah and the birthday boy, Kurt have been friends since they were little children. We have attended a few parties at his home and Maggie, Kurt’s mum throws the best birthday parties for him. When I told Savannah that we would be attending the party, she immediately inquired if there would be animals. She remembered that Maggie usually has an animal show for Kurt’s parties. This made Savannah a bit anxious because unlike Kurt, she does not like animals very much. The only animals she loves are our two Labradors.

Yes, that is a Tarantula on my hand. And yes, it is alive!

As a person with special needs, Savannah requires a fair amount of support in some situations and this time was no different. We had to make sure that she was emotionally and mentally prepared before the party to cope with her anxiety and concerns. One way of doing this was to reassure her that there would be no pressure on her to engage with the animals. We discussed with her that her daddy would sit with her as far away as possible from where the animals would be. She was happy with this arrangement and began looking forward to the party.

On the day of the party, Savannah did not back out from joining us as she usually does and was excited and happy to attend. Kurt, Maggie, her family and friends are some of the nicest people we know and Michael and I were looking forward to being in their company. As expected the party was relaxed and easy for Savannah. She was also very happy to see Kurt. Before the animals arrived, she repeatedly confirmed with Michael that as agreed, he would sit with her away from the animals.

Julian from the WILD ONES Educational Show arrived in his bakkie (South African word for a small pick-up vehicle) full of cages and containers. We watched Julian set up, and Michael and I with some trepidation watched Savannah, watching Julian set up. A few years ago at Kurt’s party, Savannah clung to me for the duration of the party and was miserable and cross because she was so mortified by the animals.

As an autistic person, Savannah’s perception of some situations is different. What might feel fun and exciting to us can be uncomfortable and frightening for Savannah. In order for the whole family to enjoy life together, Michael and I had to make peace with the fact that Savannah will always require some level of support in many situations. Fear is a debilitating emotion and we know that Savannah’s fears are real enough for her, and therefore warrants our respect and patience.

That was the mindset that we had at the party but to our surprise and delight, Savannah decided to join everyone in the area of the garden where the animal show was going to take place. Julian kicked off the show by introducing us to a tarantula. Yikes! I know. I never thought I would hold a spider nor one as scary as a tarantula. But Savannah was watching Michael and I with keen caution, and so I held out my hand and took the spider. Then I held a bearded dragon and a barn owl and the list goes on.

Eli let a Corn Snake coil around him as Savannah watched in amazement.

Then he coaxed her into touching a bunny which we named Peter Rabbit for her benefit. That was one of her favourite childhood books.

Michael who is by no means an animal lover delighted her by holding a tarantula and whistled to a Cockatiel, coaxing it away from my shoulder to his shoulder.

I struggled to fight back the tears when we met the barn owl. Some years back she was caught in a trap and had lost one leg. So she cannot fly and is fully dependent on Julian for her food. As a mother to a daughter who uses a wheelchair and a sister to a brother who is an amputee; that little owl represented the vulnerability and the tenacity that I saw in my daughter, in my brother and in Kurt. More than that, Julian’s care and commitment to this sweet bird spoke volumes about something all of us at the party understand but rarely see outside of our lives as families of people with disabilities.

That is the act of simply caring for one another. Not based on what we will gain or what we will lose, but only for the reason that we are human and we have compassion.

Often people look at Savannah or Kurt and they feel pity. Understandably so because they see themselves as having more abilities than our children do. Often we as families are judged from their limited viewpoint about what we are doing and what we are not doing for all our children. Here’s the thing though: We are here caring until forever. We are constantly finding delight in life no matter what fears and unknowns and awkwardness and frustrations we face. So the pity we get is actually misguided. It belongs to the rest of the world. While our lives take us to difficult places in our hearts:

we know what “unconditional” means.
we know what depths of love and care truly exists in the human spirit, and
we know just how shallow so many lives are because they have not yet learned to give without counting the loss or the gain.

We knew from the beginning that parenting would be a daily exercise of giving of ourselves. It would be letting go of fears and showing up for our children no matter how we were feeling.

What we learnt was that parenting a child who has special needs is sometimes about giving all of yourself. It is about conquering those fears every moment of every day and learning to live with passion and joy knowing full well that your worst fears for your child can become your reality.

We do not know when Savannah will be keen to attend another event so we soaked up the afternoon with Kurt, his family and those glorious animals. We were carefree and delighted as we held tarantulas and snakes. Now that is a great paradox for the life we live, isn’t it?

Being courageous even when our hearts are uncertain.

A very special “Thank You” to Kurt, Maggie, Kevin (Kurt’s dad), Gabriella (Kurt’s sister) and their extended family for being one of the bravest, nicest people we know.

A Million Beautiful Pieces November 7, 2018

I Am Weighing In On The Weight Issue

It’s the most wonderful time of year. Or is it?

Are you dreading the holiday season? Seeing family or friends who you would rather not see? Having to attend or host dinner parties you would rather not be part off? Trying to accommodate your spouses’ family while your own family have their expectations of you?

Maybe you already know that financially this is going to be a tight Christmas, and you can’t say that out loud without feeling like Scrooge? Or maybe you have gained a few pounds this year and the thought of going home for Christmas when you know that aunty “I must comment on your weight” will be visiting; is petrifying you.

And that is where I will start off this series of blog posts as together we wind down this year. For today I want to share some thoughts and ideas about how to deal with unsolicited comments about physical appearance. Over the next few weeks we will get to the other stuff like depression, isolation, and how to look after yourself when your life doesn’t look like the Hallmark Christmas Movies.
But for now let’s just weigh this important issue.

Firstly, why oh why is this even a topic of conversation? I’ve never understood why I’ve had to hear comments like “Oh my word, you are so fat” or “That dress is lovely but sleeveless is not right for you. Your arms are too big.” Or the other way “My word, you’ve lost so much weight. Is everything okay?” Or “I was telling ______________ that you look so much better now that you lost weight. You were looking terrible last Christmas.”

I entered Mrs South Africa after loosing some weight but I was still not exactly a “small” lady.

Why would anyone ever begin a conversation like this? Or for that matter even bring this up in conversation. Its mind-boggling that these interactions are still part of our social contexts when we are living in an age when both men and women have emotional issues that stem from having a poor body image of themselves.

We are taught from a young age to make excuses for family and friends who taunt with their crude comments. We tell ourselves that it is only cultural or that is just the way they are. I will also include here that even negative comments about skin colour, choice of clothing or hair style, comments about how a persons’ body has changed due to pregnancy or after medical issues or actually anything to do with physical appearance of any sort; are simply not topics of conversation at any time of the year, let alone during the holiday season.

Of course genuine, positive comments like ”You look lovely” or “I’m so glad to see you and I love your dress” or simply “It’s so good to see you” are perfectly fine and it makes spending time with our family and friends so much sweeter. When comments are unflattering, one cannot imagine the unnecessary hurt that it causes.

I’ve been in this situation a few times, and one incident is still so clear in my mind. I was collecting Talisa from school when I noticed an old family friend. He was an older gentleman, who I hadn’t seen in years. I was entering the school gate with many other parents when I saw him and I greeted him. He boomed out, “Oh Desirae it’s you. Oh my word. I didn’t even recognize you. You’ve put on so much weight.”

I was stunned to say the least. I had no idea how to respond to this in front of the other parents and particularly as I was feeling really depressed during this time. Savannah was recovering from an operation to her back and there were complications that we were coming to terms with. We were living in an upstairs unit in a townhouse complex. Eli was just over a year old and could not walk up or down the flight of stairs by himself. Everyday sometimes three times a day, I was carrying both Savannah and Eli up and down those stairs.

Savannah and I dancing at her 21st birthday party.

In the afternoons if I had five minutes to myself, I would dish up a large bowl of vanilla ice cream, squeeze a mountain of maple syrup onto it; down it and then continue with taking care of my three children. Hands up mums and dads if you have scoffed an entire box of chocolates or polished a bag of chips while your children needed your care! You know well enough what those days are like.

That time in our lives was so emotionally confusing as we delighted in Eli’s milestone of walking and were equally shattered as we realised that Savannah was losing her fight to keep walking. So yes, I ate the ice-cream and the cake and anything else that offered any sort of comfort. It didn’t matter that everything tasted like ash to me anyway. It was just the way I was coping.

That old mans’ comment felt so cruel and so shocking to my very soul. I felt like a failure: unable to stop the regression that was claiming Savannah’s walking, and unable to keep my weight down. Those words just made me hate myself for not being able to be thin and for not being able to keep Savannah walking. I am generally a practical and logical person but this brief meeting shattered me. And it gives you an idea of how a seemingly innocent quip, can be havoc for another person.

How did I free myself from allowing these shallow comments to hold me hostage in my misery?

*Do you know that you are a child of God and that it’s wrong to disrespect Gods creation?
First, I asked myself are these “weight commentators” that important ? Would they cope with a small percent of the challenges I have lived through? Even if they had their own challenges to survive, clearly if they are making hurtful comments, then their life challenges did not change them for the better. No. You can’t take anyone seriously when they have no depth of character. For myself when I meet people, I see more than a physical form. I see them as a child of God.

*Do you love yourself?
Then I asked myself what did I want? Really, did I want to be supermodel thin and have my body poked and peeled and worked at while Savannahs’ disability changed her body in a drastic painful way? No I didn’t want to look like a supermodel. I wanted to help Savannah to love herself even as her body started to work against her. For my own well-being and for my children, I learnt to love myself irrespective of what size dress I fit into.

*Do you know what a “good looking” body means for yourself?
I also asked myself to define what a good-looking body meant for me? My answer was that I wanted to wear clothing that flattered what I liked about my body without feeling ashamed. Fat arms and all. I also wanted to be able to run down the soccer field with Eli, wear high heels to impress Talisa and still lift Savannah when she needed it. I wanted to feel pretty good with myself whether I was a size fourteen or a size ten as long as I could do those things with my children. Now that would be a body to cherish.

This was the day Eli was selected to play football for the local district.

*Do you have a plan of how you will protect yourself from “weight commentators” this holiday season?
Lastly I asked myself how am I going to deal with shallow, misplaced comments about my physical appearance? The answer was I won’t. If a person is so base as to have the gall to say anything derogatory with the intent to cause shame, then they are not worth my time, my words, my respect or my love. It takes a mammoth task to encourage oneself when caring for a child with a disability. So I will not ever again allow anyone to set my soul off-balance into self-loathing. I do too much in a day to waste time picking myself up off the floor.

If you don’t have a plan to protect yourself, then grab a pen and page, and take some time to answer the *questions above and you will start working out your own plan on how to guard your personal space. That is what your body is. Your personal space. And no one may physically, verbally or emotionally violate your body. Got that?

Once you learn to respond to hurtful comments without feeling ashamed and angry, you will realise that your response will simply be a matter of stating facts. I taught my children how to do this after I worked out how to do it for myself. They know that if anyone dares to cross that line with them by making inappropriate comments about their physical appearance, then they have my permission to shut them down with statements like:
“Wow, that’s not nice to say.”
“You think like that? I’m glad you aren’t my mum or dad”.
“I like myself the way I am. If you don’t like me that’s your problem.”
“You be you and I’ll be me”, or Talisa’s own line said with a huge smile
“I’m fearfully and wonderfully made. I’m okay”.

Oh my friends, this Christmas the best gift you can give is to find your strength, keep your balance and maintain your peace.

Now, I’m off to indulge in a vegetarian hot dog on a buttered white roll with homemade potato chips and caramelised onions. And later while I watch today’s episode of Masterchef Australia, I will devour my Carb Clever Chocolate Bar.

Yum. Yum.

My Story October 20, 2018

It’s a Celebration: Talisa is Sixteen

Today Talisa turns sixteen years old. Where did the time go? As we reminisce over the last sixteen years, I’m thankful for so much. Mostly I am thankful for the special relationship that Michael shares with Talisa.

Few fathers understand how to be a dad to a daughter in the different phases of her life. Michael was raised in a very conservative family who believed that wearing dresses, amongst other patriarchal ideas, was how a women showed her dignity. The focus of what made a strong, courageous woman was placed on all the physical aspects of being a woman, and not on what counted….a woman’s heart, mind and soul.

Far from his conservative upbringing, Michael has raised his daughters with the freedom to express themselves and with the confidence in knowing that nothing they do will ever change his love and commitment to them. They are his greatest delight and his deepest heartache as he mourns silently all that Savannah will not experience in her life as a woman with a disability.

From the softness he shows his daughters in so many ways; to indulging their musical tastes; to patiently waiting outside change-rooms while they try on clothing or can’t decide what colour blusher to buy; to waiting while they take over the mirror in our bathroom; to accepting that he will buy hair bands and lip glosses far too often; to sitting up at night until Talisa completes her homework: Michaels’ heart has completely been flooded by being a father to his daughters.

When a girl child is honoured and respected by her father; when she is made to feel capable, and still has a safe place with her dad to be vulnerable; she becomes the most remarkable gift he can ever give the world. A women who is whole.

Today as we celebrate Talisa’s sixteenth birthday, I am so emotional remembering the day she was born. I remember looking at her in my arms and telling Michael that he need only remember two things about raising a daughter:

The first is that you are guaranteed (for the most part) the first eighteen years with them until they become independent. That means only eighteen Christmas mornings when your children are all yours. To me if an average lifespan is seventy years then eighteen seemed like just a drop in our entire lives. So Michael and I agreed to do our best to make those eighteen years as amazing as possible.

Eighteen years where we will hold every moment with tenderness and gratitude before it slips away.

The second piece of revelation or advice if you will, that I gave Michael was don’t ever, ever let your daughters down. Never. Daughters will need their fathers because when you don’t have a dad, the world thinks nothing of breaking you. It knows you have nowhere to go.

Be the dad whose daughters don’t have to look for love in the wrong places or test life to figure out what Love feels like. A strong, capable women already knows what Love really is because she soars from the shoulders of the mighty man who raised her. And when she needs a soft place to land, it is usually right back in her daddy’s arms.

Today as Talisa turns sixteen she makes us so proud to be her parents. She is a remarkable sister, a genuine friend, a blessing to her grandparents, and in so many ways she is both mine and Michael’s ‘right hands’. She is my delight and her fathers greatest gift to the world.

Happy Sixteenth Birthday Talisa. You will always have my voice in your ear praying for you and my hand in yours whenever you need me. So too you will always have your dads’ arms to hold you and his shoulders to soar from. When the time comes for you to soar, don’t be afraid to fly high my darling. The view will be spectacular.

Never forget why we chose your name. May it be a reminder that God is always with you. We love you.

(The meaning of the name “Talisa” is: “Consecrated to God”.

Categories: Hindu Names, Indian Names, Sanskrit Names.

Used in: English speaking countries, Hindu speaking countries.

Gender: Girl Names.

Origins: African-American.– https://www.thenamemeaning.com/talisa/)

My Story April 2, 2018

A Letter to our Autistic Daughter on World Autism Awareness Day 2018

To our daughter Savannah.

Today the world celebrates Autism Awareness Day.
We don’t need a day to celebrate you. As an autistic person you have taught us so much about Love and Respect.

You have challenged our way of thinking and being. You have taught us to let go of what is unnecessary in life and fight like crazy for what is worth living for. Family!

As the world celebrates Autism Awareness, we celebrate our journey with you. We are bound to each others fate in a way only few other parents in this world are bound to their children. Sometimes that’s hard for me, and I know it is hard for you too.

We’ve come so far though, and we’ve survived being judged, lonely, sad, other people’s ignorance and so many of life’s set backs.

We are braver than we knew we could be. We are more resilient. Mostly we are kinder, more gentle and much more appreciative of life because of the journey that you are on.

I hope we make you proud because you make us proud to be your family everyday. Your dad and I love you more than all the sand in the ocean and all the stars in the sky. It hurts when we find that sometimes it is not enough to protect you and ourselves from the harshness of the world we live in.

So let us hope as the World turns its attention to Autism, they will make real changes that truly impact your life in a way that is meaningful to you.

Wherever we go to from here, please remember this:

I Do Not Cry For Who You Are

by (author unknown)

Tears have stopped falling
On the fragments of my dreams,
I no longer mourn illusions
Of yesterday’s reality.

Tears that fell so often,
Almost every day,
But that was when the rain poured down,
And the sky was always gray.

Now I feel the sunshine,
And the sky is blue again,
I’m living on a rainbow,
but I still cry now and then.

I do not cry for who you are
Nor what will never be
My pain’s in the confusion
And the vulnerability

My frustration’s with a society,
That cannot see you’re mine,
My anger’s to the ignorance,
That will never try.

My fear is from uncertainty
That increases over time.
My guilt is deep inside my soul,
Each time they make me cry.

I do not cry for who you are
Nor what can never be
I cry because they look at you
But never really see

They don’t see how the differences,
Could make the world complete,
They can’t all live on rainbows,
It’s just not meant to be.

You are not responsible,
For all that we’ve been through,
I would not change you for the world,
I would change the world for you.

All our love

Mum and dad x

By Desirae and Michael Pillay (non autistic parents to Savannah Pillay, an autistic young adult)

My Story March 30, 2018

An Easter I didn’t ever imagine

Today is Good Friday in South Africa. We have always loved celebrating this day. Amidst singing songs of worship all day (we love music), we have celebrated this day with a special meal of a roast leg of lamb for lunch and all the trimmings.

Actually, since Savannah was seven years old I taught her to participate in preparing the lamb. There were so many reasons why this was an impossible feat for her. She had physical and sensory challenges. She had some language processing difficulties and her ability to concentrate was almost non-existent.

However, we found clever ways to help her to engage in this special family time. As a young mother I hoped that when my children became adults and when we would be enjoying family celebrations with their respective families; that Savannah would participate in the celebrations by preparing a meal. I wanted her to feel how important her contribution to the family was.

It was humble beginnings of simply teaching her to pour the marinade over the leg of lamb to about ten years later when she was able to plan the entire meal. She would mix the marinade, prepare the leg of lamb and with some assistance from myself or my mum; she even served the meal. Savannah loved planning this meal. She felt so proud that she could serve her family and that we appreciated her efforts so much.

Being raised as an Indian woman, my family placed a high value on our ability as women to prepare meals. It is important to be the “hostess with the most-ess”. Literally. We value celebrations marked by the beautiful presentation of large meals. So, while I don’t live my life based on my culture; I did feel a sense of pride that my physically disabled daughter who is also autistic could prepare a special dish for a special family celebration.

This year though Savannah has not been bothered with planning the meal. She has not been interested in doing much. She is going through a difficult time for many reasons. It is not my place to share the details of that publicly.

What I can share is that as I watch her grapple with her reality, it is easy for me to feel angry and sad. We worked hard as a family to give Savannah a hopeful, bright future. We wanted her to always feel happy and joyful. We wanted her to know that she is big part of the world and that she has a reason to wake up everyday and live her best life.

As I ponder the complex threads of my emotions, I realise I am not sad or angry. I awakened to the understanding that the human experience isn’t about success and failures. It is a rather magnificent testimony of being a witness to each other’s lives. And when that “other” is your own child, then it is only you who can be brave enough and strong enough to witness everything that our children must endure.

I reminisce today of all the Easters before when Savannah’s excitement filled the household as she prepared the Good Friday Leg of Lamb lunch; and I am thankful.

I am thankful for the many Easter celebrations that was everything I wanted it to be. I am reminded of how strong we all are and how much we have lived through. I am grateful that Savannah too knows her own strength and power. I am hopeful that she will find her way again because of that. I am humbled as I surrender to the understanding that life is full of surprises. Some good and some bad. My courage is renewed as I remember the grace that has been given to us which has brought us this far.

Today as we celebrate Good Friday, my hope is in the story of the crucifixion of Christ. It was not an end, but a beginning of a new life. It is my thread of hope that one day Savannah will know what it feels like to be Peaceful and Joyful without needing to prove anything to anyone. She will never have to suffer the weight of living in a world that sets itself against her. And I will never have to feel helpless and frustrated at my own limitations as a parent.

That is the why in spite of everything, I am celebrating the gift that Good Friday gives to me. Faith, Hope and Love.

My Story March 21, 2018

The Best Carpool Karaoke Made Me Cry Too; But Not Why You Think

Have you seen the beautiful video celebrating children with Down Syndrome? If you haven’t please watch it. It’s an internet sensation and I applaud the creators of the videos. You can view the video at the end of the post.

When I first saw it, Michael and I were awake at three thirty on Monday morning with Savannah (our adult daughter with complex special needs) who couldn’t sleep. We found her in her wheelchair with her curtain completely drawn back, exposing her bedroom to the moonlight. She was looking outside and just crying. We helped her back into bed and comforted her as best as we could. While I waited for her to fall off to sleep, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed. That was when I first saw the video. The caption stung me because it contained the words “love, courage, commitment” attributed to the moms.

A couple of things were highlighted here especially as I lay awake with my twenty-one year old child. Firstly, all of the children featured were young children with Down Syndrome. Where were the adults with Down Syndrome and their aging parents? Adults with disabilities who are still playful or are still hugging a Barney stuffed toy may get the “cute” vote but people are generally uncomfortable when it comes to childlike adults. Yes, there are many,many people with disabilities who are independent and are adults in their own right. But there are also a large group of people with disabilities who will love Teletubbies forever, who will be thirty years old and still sit on their parents laps, who will obsess over a toy from a kiddies takeout meal that they received twenty years ago and who will happily bob around to long forgotten Disney movie songs. Theses families would have been doing this right along with their children for all those years. Even as they are both aging. LOVE,COURAGE and COMMITMENT looks like this too.

Secondly, it saddened me that the reality of the world we live in is that it is easier to share a video than work alongside families like us to keep us strong and committed for the long run. I recently met a mother who is seventy years old. Her fifty year old son is a person with a disability. He cannot live with her anymore so he is in a care home. She is still fighting. She is trying to get him a better wheelchair but his chair costs more than her medical aid company will pay. He sometimes goes to hospital and it’s a fight to get a suitable vehicle to transport him. At seventy she is still fighting. She talks to people, she yells at people, she writes letters, she tries to raise funds, she visits her son, she makes sure he is properly cared for and she hasn’t stopped for fifty years. That is what COMMITMENT looks like.

My best friend is a mother to an adult daughter with Down Syndrome. My friend has always been a single parent. Her daughter’s birth father decided he had a choice and chose to leave. Twenty six years later, my friend works two jobs so she can provide for her daughter. She has assisted care organisations when her daughter lived there and still volunteers her time to help organizations who aid children and women in need of support; believing that one day it will come back to her daughter. That is what COURAGE looks like.

I am never impressed by people who carelessly say “I love people with disabilities”. In strong families where being a person with a disability is valued and respected, LOVE is never in short supply. But physical and emotional energy is difficult to have for as long as you both live. If I had a ten rand for all the people who have said they love Savannah and how much she means to them; I would be super rich today. But their love wasn’t the kind that was about her and what was best for her.

When families love their children with disabilities we love no matter what happens or how we feel. We understand that the expression of our love may be one-sided. We love even when we are tired of doing the same thing over and over. We love when we are sad that we don’t have choices because we are bound to our child’s fate. We love when people who know nothing about our lives judge us. We love because we actually understand the meaning of LOVE. It is not a weakness to love but the greatest strength you can possess.

So next time when you share a video about families with disabilities that gives you goosebumps and moves you to tears; ask yourself this: If the people in the video were your neighbours or in your place of worship or were a relative would you help them and love them? Without the goosebumps and tears, could you give them your love, time and support? Even if it made you uncomfortable?

Do you see the people with disabilities in videos as people with feelings, dreams, emotions, fears and the capacity to love? When you write beautiful captions about their families or carers without acknowledging the people who the videos are about, you nullify their humanity. If you write anything about our community, commend both the people with disabilities and their families. You can’t decide which of us meets the criteria for accolades but you can influence the support and understanding the entire family receives. That is true awareness.

And to Love especially in our families who are living the special needs life, Love is simply this:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (NIV)

Thank you to the moms of Designer Genes Facebook group for definitely the Best Carpool Karaoke.

My Story February 12, 2018

Where is that darn Cupid?

Here we are two days before Valentine’s Day 2018. The invites for our Valentine’s Day party (to take place on Saturday) have been sent. The party games have been arranged. The list of to do’s is growing smaller. (Just remembered I didn’t add *Get Eli’s gift to the list*. Must do that. List growing longer.)

Oh, and before you get comfortable please get a cuppa of your favourite something because I think this post is a little longer than usual.

So Michael and I have never been big on Valentine’s Day as a couple but we’ve indulged our children, especially as it’s been a big fundraising event in their schools over the years.

For the past couple years, we’ve made a big deal of calendar celebrations for Savannah’s sake. She misses the excitement of how schools make days like Valentine’s Day fun. Since she is no longer part of school or any organisation that would be suitable to her needs, we have tried to recreate the events she most enjoyed.

Our close family and friends are quite something and attend Savannah’s parties with their great energy and love. Savannah has a splendid time and replays those moments in her mind or by looking at photos of the special day for months thereafter. It is these parties that compensate somewhat for all that makes her sad.

What makes Savannah sad? The same things that make any young lady sad. Savannah has given me permission to share this story with you told from my perspective and not on her behalf:

Two years ago, out of the blue after a therapy session, she asked her then carer “Why no boyfriend for me?” My mum who was with them at the time, assumed I had discussed having a boyfriend with Savannah. She told Savannah it’s a good idea to discuss it with mum and dad.

I hadn’t had a conversation about a boyfriend with Savannah so when my mum told me, I had no idea where that was coming from. It was hard to hear when my mum also said that Savannah was just unusually quiet that afternoon.

The same evening as Michael and I cleared up the dinner table, we chatted with Savannah about her question. What ensued was one of the greatest heartbreaks I’ve ever known.

Savannah repeated her question “Why no boys like me?” Michael said because most boys, lots of boys aren’t nice enough. He told her that we don’t know why boys were so silly but that she was always going to be our wonderful, beautiful, special lady and we loved her so much. He told her that Eli and her uncle Darren and he would always protect her and make her happy. She said flatly “No boy look at me dad.” I think Michael’s heart broke in an unrepairable way that night.

I tried to make light of it. I reminded Savannah of some of our friends and relatives who are single and happy. I then told her that when you have a boyfriend and eventually a husband, you have to do crazy stuff for them like their laundry. And that’s gross. I heard myself giggle and say I don’t want her to have to do stuff like that. And that guys are more trouble than she thinks.

I sounded calm and light hearted. So I thought. But I was trying to fight back tears. Later I thought off all the things that might have been better to say, but when you feel like the blood is draining out of you and recognise the angry screams you are trying to block out are your own silent screams, nothing I said would have made her feel differently or would have made me handle that evening any better.

Savannah wheeled herself to her room, still quite down. A few moments later we heard her play our wedding song “Paint my love” by Michael Learns To Rock. Michael and I were stunned. She never played that song before. Then we heard sobs.

I’m very brave when my children need me but that night I couldn’t see her like that. I went to my room as Michael knocked on her door and she told him he could come in. He sat with her for a while while she cried. Then she said “Can’t help me dad. My heart broken. Me be alone now.”

Michael helped her into bed then with a deep sigh, he came to bed. We both just lay awake unable to say anything that would make sense of the evening. Wrapped in all those diagnosis, was still a young woman who just wanted to be like every woman:in love and happy. Where was that darn Cupid and is there an arrow aimed at someone for Savannah?

But the world’s definition of beauty and love doesn’t look like our daughter Savannah. It does not help Savannah that any opportunity to make friends independently of Michael and I is also very difficult to organise.

Savannah can’t attend any adult community day facility because nothing is within reasonable driving distance. Mainstream community groups like youth groups aren’t an option because it would mean that Michael or I have to attend because people generally don’t have the time to invest in getting to know her.

Her being in a wheelchair, having difficulty in making herself understood to unfamiliar people and being autistic is just beyond the abilities of most people to comprehend. Rapunzel’s Tower, Sleeping Beauty’s curse and Cinderella’s wicked step-mother would have been far easier for us to deal with than society today.

For our daughter no Fairy Godmother or Knight in shining army will be arriving to make her the Belle of the ball. People aren’t teaching their children that it really isn’t an imposition to spend a little time with her.

Moreover if they did, I’d be afraid because we’ve already been subject to other parents mimicking her speech in jest or repeating her phrases thinking it would be funny to Savannah too. Not funny. Not at all.

So here we are. We celebrate the things that make her happy. We accept what is true for her and what is true about the world we live in. We don’t like it but we make what is in our control… SPECTACULAR for her.

Valentines Day is going to be awesome for Savannah. Later today she and I are going to get her new red clothing for the party and an Alice band. This year she wants an Alice band. She has already made a special gift for her sister and then she’ll work on her brother’s gift….because that’s LOVE. She knows that better than most.

“Love is patient, love is kind. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”
Excerpts from 1 Corinthians 13.