I received this email from Amelie, who blogs at Lola’s verrückte Welt. She writes:
When I learned that Lola, my now 10 month old daughter, had Down syndrome, or at least, when I first had this suspection, on my own, alone, in the middle of a November night, in a hospital bed, shortly after having given birth, laying lonely without my belly, without my baby, I only had the wish it would all be a nightmare. I will wake up, and everything is alright, my baby here, the sun, and all… But then, another strong feeling overcame me. I don’t remember where it came from, however, it entered my mind. It was the feeling of a deep relief, of gratitude. ‘Did you have to come to show me?’ The strong knowledge, somehow, that I couldn’t go on like before, trying to make my career in adademic life, succeeding in science, under the incredible pressures of our system… and I felt so deeply relieved that she had taken this burden from me and would show me her way of life, simple and rich…
and there I went, somewhere in between these two thoughts, sometimes quite close to the nightmare feeling, although I would never admit that. Sometimes closer to the relief-side of the feelings, but never quite managing to feel it as intensely as in that night. Mostly trying to find my way in between. Trying to make things better, let love come and take me. One part of myself struggling against the deep wish to do the things the simple way, telling me that it’s too obvious and naive, urging for complications that sound more important. I never imagined it was so difficult for me ‘to take it easy’. Although Lola is my best teacher. And she has taught me so much, already.
Your life – as catched in your book – is such an incredible and moving account of how simple and rich life can be if you take it to the bottom – and smell the dusty autumn, put on the candles in the kitchen on a winter day, see your kids run down the hill, cook a chicken and it’s smell in the house… and all the little details which remind us of our own childhood and there you can touch them again… and our kids grow, and grow, at their pace, in the rhythm they got from heaven.
Amelie also writes about our email exchange, here.