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, March 05, 2007

Comparing


Humans are built to compare things. It’s part of what allows us to survive. “Red and yellow, kill a fellow; red and black, venom lack" or "Goat sure does taste better than porcupine.” It’s good to compare, but it can get you in trouble, too.

This has been a great week with our eldest son, Owen. He’s been just about perfect. We've read books, flown kites, practiced for the PSAT. There have been a number of times his mother and I have turned to each other and said lovingly, “Could we have asked for a more perfect boy?” Which is always followed by an uncomfortable silence, and then, “And, Errol is so sweet!” Which he is. But he isn’t exactly the son we dreamed about, and Owen, (bursting with energy, funny, always singing, and gorgeous, to boot) mostly is. Cary and I never asked for a kid with RTS-- "Hey, wouldn't it be really cool to have a special needs kid?" But at the same time, we'd never unask for the joy and the light that Errol brings us all the time. He's hooting right now, he's got a cute little nose, he types 67 wpm, he never stops smiling. Often, it's the surprises in life that are the sweetest.

One year I saved all my money and flew to Italy to join my wife Cary who had been travelling in Spain. I had "studied" in Venice in college, and had been planning this homecoming trip since the day I left in 1988. When I arrived in Italy, Cary told me of the miraculous journey she had just undertaken. She had walked from Navarra to Galicia, 600 miles on a medieval pilgrimage route across northern Spain. What joy! I became more and more entranced as she told me stories of her amazing trek, and then I surprised myself, scuttling my long planned Italian vacation, and turning west to walk across Spain. It was the best trip of my life.

It's probably best not to compare too much. (After all, what good does it do?) At the same time it's totally natural (hardwiring beats willpower 95% of the time). In the end, the important thing is that Errol and Owen bring us love, and joy, and happiness (so does beer). It's just that one joy is more surprising than the other.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear Jonathan,

I think comparing ourselves to others is so harmful, even if it is so very human. Just being who we are, where we are and listening to our inner voice is key. Your grandmoney used to call it "listening to the still, small voice within." I heard her say that many times.

Cary's trip and your own in Spain sound wonderful. How fortunate you both were to take such journeys.

Love, Marigene