Errol Milner Clifford 2006-2009

Errol Milner Clifford was born with a significant heart defect and a cognitive disability that prevented him from walking or talking. As we grieved the child we had anticipated, Errol’s full-bodied smile and irrepressible laugh turned our sorrow into joy, and taught us that many of the best things in life are unexpected. Inspired by Errol’s delightful spirit, friends, family, and neighbors rallied to support our family’s significant emotional, physical, and financial needs, through countless acts of selfless generosity. When Errol’s courageous heart finally failed him on December 23, 2009 we were left numb with grief. In these dark hours we listen hopefully for the echoes of Errol’s brilliant laugh. This blog is the story (starting from present and working back to Errol's birth) of the life and times of the amazing Errol Clifford.


Monday, January 08, 2007

Luck


Errol turned ten months old today, and we feel keenly lucky to have him. We learned at school today that Errol’s classmate, Jorge, died over the weekend. Jorge caught a simple cold which turned into RSV and then slowly killed him. I saw little Jorge every time I went to Errol’s school. He was the sweet disabled two year old who wore leg braces and worked hard at his exercises; and now he is gone. Some people get decades of life, others; next to nothing. There is no such thing as fair in this blind universe. This sad episode just goes to show us how fragile Errol’s life is and reminds us again (not that we wanted reminding) to savor every single second.

Some might think that the death of a retarded child is somehow less tragic than that of a typical kid. (I might have thought that pre-Errol). But a kid like Jorge had to really work for everything he had, and I doubt he took the good part of life for granted (perhaps he enjoyed it more than a normal kid ever could-although I’ll never know.) As I watch Errol grow and thrive and as I think about all the really horrible, horrible shit life has thrown at him and that he has overcome (go Errol!) it makes me think that his life, if anything, is more valuable than mine. Not that we should be competitive about the value of life, but I certainly don’t think that the passing of a disabled kid is somehow less dire than that of an all-American tot. I’m sure that any parent with a disabled kid has spent plenty of anxious time imagining life without their child, and if they are like me, they are acutely aware of just how hard won and precious that delicate life is.

We are thinking of little Jorge tonight and holding tightly to our beloved little Errol who, thanks to the heroics of so many, is right here with us. We are trying to embrace all that is here in this sweet and tragic moment.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Jonathan,

Love is love. When the person one loves is gone, grief is grief. No matter who, no matter how or what. Someone once told me that grief is the single most individual experience a human being will ever have.

Errol is blessed, as are you all who love him. I am very sorry for his friend, Jorge, who tried so hard to live. And so glad Errol is alive!

Marigene