Such Sweet Sorrow

Tonight, my heart hurt for my son, Owen. I didn't know how to make it better. For once, I hope having Down syndrome erases his memory of the pain tonight.

Here's what happened: he and Tess were playing and I told them we could play a game and see who could get their pajamas on faster. Of course, they thought this was the most fun thing, and they both started trying to get their clothes off and their pjs on. I figured it was going to be about even. I had to help both of them a little, and they were going at the same rate, until Owen just powered through putting his pants on (he even pushed my hands away when I tried to help turn them around) and he won, sitting down with this big smile on his face. Tess looked at him and said, "Owen won" and I congratulated him. He was so proud of himself. Until Tess started crying. "I wanted to win, I wanted to win," my 4-year-old said, while the smile on Owen's face disappeared. He looked down, then at Tess, then stood up and walked upstairs to go to bed. Meanwhile, her sobs got louder. I told Owen he had to go to the bathroom and put him on the toilet. He was silent, and sad. I could tell he sad, and bewildered, because he did what he thought he was supposed to, play the game to win. But she was crying so loudly at this point and there was nothing I could say or do. I felt horrible for Owen, and I was so angry at Tess.

I went downstairs to tell Tess to stop crying and when I came back upstairs, Owen was re-doing his pajamas, muttering "Tess can do it. See? I slower." He gets it. He knows he hurt her and that's all he cares about. My anger at Tess was palpable, but I decided getting Owen to bed would be the best thing. We brushed his teeth and he ran into his bed and pulled the covers over his head. He wouldn't even say goodnight to me, and I tried to give him a hug but he got out of bed and pushed me towards the door. "Go," he said. I went into Tess's room, so angry, but not sure what to do about it all. So I stonily watched as she brushed her teeth. She knew I was angry and went right into her bed, still crying a little. I always tell her a story, so I asked if she wanted on. "Yes," she said. So I started to tell her about a little girl named Tess who hurt her brother and how much he adored her. She still continued to cry a little and said, "But mommy, I wanted to win." I tried to explain that she can't always win but it wasn't getting through. Then, I heard Owen. He got up, came into Tess's room and gave me a hug, wordlessly. Without even glancing at Tess, he went back into his room and went to bed. My heart lurched. He was saying, "It's okay, mom, I love you, but I'm still hurt." So I asked Tess to look at me and tried to explain that Owen wasn't as smart as she was, and that his brain didn't work the same way and she had hurt him really bad. She still wouldn't budge. So I said goodnight and walked away. As I left the room, I heard her turn and say "goodnight Mommy" in this frighteningly small voice. Two kids who love each other so much but don't know how to cross that bridge to forgiveness. Owen adores Tess. It's clear. And Tess loves Owen, but she is smarter than him, and faster, and the leader, and can't understand why he won this time.

It makes me wonder: does Owen know so much more than us? How is it that all he wanted was for Tess to win so that she could be happy. He didn't care that he won, he would give it all back to make her happy. Isn't that what true love for one another is? Isn't that true unselfishness? To think that my son possesses something so rare, so wonderful. That is what children with Down syndrome are all about. That is why we need to treat them with respect, and care, and kindness.