I noticed it right away, but it didn’t dawn on me until later.

I noticed it when I was giving her a back massage.

I felt it in the muscle that ran from her neck down to her shoulders.

I felt it in the muscle of her upper back.

Each of those muscles were thick; much more so than a normal woman’s muscle.

And, then as I looked at her husband, I saw the same thing in his muscles.  (I doubt he would consent to a back massage from me.)

But the truth of it didn’t cross my mind until later.

Later, it all clicked.

Their daughter has a condition called hypermobility.

She was born with it.

Hypermobility is characterized by being double jointed.

Their daughter can’t do a lot of the normal motor skills that her age can do, because her joints are so extremely flexible.

When she tries to walk, for instance, her feet go sideways and her sole faces outwards from her legs.

She literally walks on the sides of her feet with no compunction whatsoever.

She used to sit for hours and played happily, one leg splayed out behind and the other out in front, both flat on the floor.

All of which means she is a two-year-old who is just now learning to walk on the soles of her feet. 

Little by little she gains and little by little she walks a little farther.

In the meantime, her parents carry her.

She’s the sweetest thing; I like to be with her, and carry her for as long as I can, but I can’t nearly as long as her parents can.

Because they have that extra muscle.

Muscle built by hours of care, and enduring love.

I’m proud of her parents.

But more than that, I’m proud, and feel it an honor to visit with any parents whose children have special needs.

It’s even better if I can make a connection with their children, whatever that connection may be.

Like the 13-year-old boy with autism.

He was being shadowed by his grandpa at the wedding I attended this last weekend.

Some might have called him a crowd liability.

It’s true, he did need more supervision than some.

And he was just hyper enough and hard enough to understand that I reckon a lot of folks steered clear, just to be on the safe side.

His Grandpa knew that, and was for steering him past me as he and I interreacted a bit.

But I wanted to talk to his grandson, so I placed my hand on his shoulder and eased up beside him.

He was hard to understand, and I knew I wouldn’t have long with him, based on my experience with autistic people, so I did what I could to set him at ease.

And almost immediately he calmed down, and, in his own way started communicating with me.

Our moment was soon gone, but it remains special to me.

Today I give a shout out to all those parents who have developed extra muscle, whether real or in the form of patience and a strong mind to continue in the trying circumstances that their special needs children place them in.

They have something I don’t have, and each time I am around them, I feel privileged.

Blessed are those children, and their parents.

Written in Red Beard