Having a sibling with a disability is a blessing that disguises itself as a curse. An outside view highlights the tantrums, drooling, hitting, yelling, biting, anger, confusion, awkward appearances, slurred speech, and all the rest of the embarrassing and permanently hard stuff. Once the difficult task of looking through and past the disguise is accomplished, the inside view reveals the truths that stands in front of the lies; laughter that breaks through tears, peace that isn't offended by your fears, and a deep, genuine love that binds them all together and enables you to truly see the blessing. You are rewarded with a capacity to understand and recognize hardship in all its forms and to gain wisdom from looking for the breathtaking beauty that can be found in pain. You learn how life giving and devastating it can be to celebrate every accomplishment. You learn that joy and sorrow have the same pulse, they do not exist apart from each other. But their fusion is not bad news. It's actually a relief.
People learn these things about blessings and curses from a myriad of life experiences throughout their lifetimes. The difference I see in siblings of people with disabilities is that we tend to learn them long before our peers do. This knowledge sets us apart in ways we didn't sign up for and can't control. It's easy to feel like an alien in a strange land when you know the true love that others are searching for and you know the answers to some of life's toughest questions. You know how to spot a curse disguise a mile away, call out the blessing, and run towards it.
