Holland
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome To Holland”.
“Holland?!?” you say, “What do you mean “Holland”??? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy”
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills…Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy…and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned”.
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away…because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.
But…if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things…about Holland.
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Last night my cousin and I walked through a thrift store. It was late and the girls at the counter told us, “Three minutes, stores closing!” We had a quick look around. Yes there was plenty of STUFF. Old curling irons, stuffed animals, vases, my cousin even saw a cross that she said looked exactly like the one she had put in her fathers casket when he died. I was just kind of wondering around. I walked by the shoes and noticed a pair of beautiful hand painted wooden shoes from Holland. They stopped me in my tracks for a minute because I remembered this story. A friend of mine sent it to me about a year ago. We were both beginning our journey to some where we had never been before. I left the wooden shoes on the shelf but thought about them all night long. I thought about the shoes, I thought about the people. I thought about the people that were on their way to Holland long before we ever arrived. The people who traveled there on purpose, so when a blond little three year old boy and his scarred family got off the plane, they would be there with open arms and a map. They didn’t know our names but they were sure we would be coming. I thought about my friend, she was on the same plane, but we wouldn’t find each other until we both arrived. I thought about the dear people that paid for our hotel room and gave us the hope that maybe someday we would make it home.
I had to go back this morning and buy those little wooden shoes from Holland. I had to buy them because I never want to forget this journey. We can see things and meet people in life that inspire us and warm our hearts but if we don’t allow them to really change us, then it’s all in vain. I think “Welcome to Holland” speaks to people across the board whether you have a child with special needs or you are facing other challenges in life. We all have a plane to catch. We all end up in places we never dreamed of going.
Luke and I took the little wooden shoes up to the counter. They lady said, “Hmmm, little wooden shoes?” and I said, “Yes please, little wooden shoes for me!”
Jeremiah 29:11
January 22nd, 2010 at 5:02 pm
Hi Jen - I feel like its been forever since I left a reply on your blog; however, I’m always reading away at your amazing journey! I read this poem six months ago and all I could do was cry…cry for my son…cry for his spirit…cry for this road we’re on that seems so unclear at times. After reading it again tonight, I felt the same emotions but I also was able to look deeper and realize that God has put me in “Holland” for a purpose. I have no other choice but to trust in Him! When I saw your reply on my blog, I realized that I haven’t discussed Landon’s progress with Apraxia on my blog - it’s extremely hard to face at times. Although he’s up to 10 words (hooray for that!) the progress is slow. I attribute a lot of this to our move and the fact that he’s gone three months without therapy due to insurance issues. I continue to be hopeful though. I look at your story and read the progress that Luke continues to make and it lifts our spirits. I want you to know that your blog is inspirational, touching, and uplifting. Thank you!
January 22nd, 2010 at 5:51 pm
LOVE THEM!
January 23rd, 2010 at 10:05 am
*wipes away tears*
I remember reading that a long time ago, before realizing how much in Holland we really are, so it was definitely very touching to read again. Thank you for posting this.
<3 April
January 26th, 2010 at 11:04 pm
Been to Holland on four occassiosn, loved it each time, it’s my favorite Europe destination
January 27th, 2010 at 4:01 am
Love it! The shoes are a perfect reminder of the journey we are all on. I read that poem almost two years ago and keep it tucked away in the back of my head and my heart. It resurfaces whenever I am having one of those days. I am glad you went back to the store and bought those shoes. They were meant for you!
January 28th, 2010 at 11:53 am
Hi Jen - I just recently came across your blog while searching for information on apraxia. I have a 2 1/2 year old who was born with a cleft lip and palate so we knew from the beginning that he would have speech issues. He has been receiving speech therapy since he was around a year old. I started thinking that there was something other than his cleft palate that was causing him to be so delayed in his speech and now we are looking at apraxia as one of his puzzle pieces. I found your “video of hope” so touching — I was bawling my eyes out! I can’t wait to read more and watch more of the speech therapy videos. I am going to forward this onto my little boy’s speech therapist too.
Thanks again ~ Krissy
April 23rd, 2010 at 4:54 pm
Oh my goodness. I just read your article in this month’s MomSense. The funny thing is I haven’t been in MOPS for over a year.
I also have a child that has verbal apraxia of speech. He was diagnosed at age 2 with severe apraxia, unable to speak. He would gesture, grunt and point. He qualified for speech but it was a few months in before his therapist realized it was apraxia. He attended ese/pre k and his teacher was an absolute blessing! Without her, he would not be where he is today.
He is almost seven years old and still in speech therapy. He has mastered almost all of his sounds except for “r” which he is working on now.
I can totally relate to Holland. I can honestly say now, after years of counseling and medication for me!, that Holland is a wonderful place. Different than where the others are going but it is a place that God has made just for us.
God Bless you and your family!