The path of life is never a straight line

It is 1969. You are 41 years old and a blessed event is on the way!

It is a little unexpected as you and your spouse (age 55) have two other children, ages six and ten years old.

But it is a thrill never the less and you both put up with the good natured ribbing about starting over, comments like being sexy beyond your years, and from some people, undisguised envy. You feel well, look well and things progress very much the same as your other two pregnancies. You have both heard of the testing they do for older parents, but you figure your other two children are just fine, besides you don't feel old.

There is no problem in your families, and really, you just can't afford all the extra medical stuff, you can barely pay for the hospital room extras what with losing time from work and afterwards being home with the baby, for a little while anyway.

Fast forward

It's a very quick delivery, but the hospital nursing staff are acting very subdued.

The baby cries, he seems just fine, you figure everyone including you have had an exhausting day.

The next morning, your obstetrician quietly meets with you and your husband to inform you that your newborn is mentally disabled. He is so very sorry.

Your paediatrician projects that your child may have ultimately have a mental IQ (intelligence quotient) of a seven-year-old child, but not much more.

He is a strong healthy baby, but will need supervision his entire life. Stunned, you both begin the long process of coping. Your lives have just irrevocably changed, forever. How can you even begin to think about the future?

Acceptance may come later, or may never come, but right now this baby needs to be fed and diapered.

You stay at home on unpaid maternity leave as long as you can afford to, then you must return to your job.

Reality sets in as you initiate the childcare search, only to find after fruitless attempts that not every nursery is equipped to handle special needs children.

Your baby is left with your dear mother, a kind elderly lady, herself physically challenged, but with a heart of pure gold.

Fast Forward

He is happy every day. He loves to play with your other children; he wants to be with them.

They are patient and include him in their activities where they can, but they are almost grown now. Their interests, their needs have changed, and their urge to leave the homefront is growing daily.

Soon they will be out on their own, studying and earning their way in the world. It is as it should be. Children are like kites, trying to fly, catching the wind, twirling back and forth until their tail sheets stabilise, soaring higher and higher to reach the stars.

Suddenly, the string breaks and off they go on the great adventure called life. He will not be able to go, he wants to, desperately, and understands that they have left, but not the why.

Always, the question why? It breaks your heart; but soon he is happy again to do one of his favourite things, go on a picnic and fish off the dock.

Fast Forward

He can no longer attend public school. The teachers have gently told you that from this point on, he is uneducable.

He can read slightly, write his name, and knows what money can buy, but he lacks intuitive skills and abstract and cognitive reasoning, say his teachers.

"Why do they always use such big words to describe the problem? Why don't they just spell it out? Our third child will never be gainfully employed. He will not have a career; he will never be able to support himself, he will always need us, or someone like us to survive".

You are both exhausted from the years of relentless juggling and advocating for this dear innocent child; at times, it has affected your relationship with each other.

You both have had heavy bouts of depression. Nevertheless, some inner core of strength propels you to do the right thing, and you carry on.

Fast Forward

He is now 17 years old, a teenager. You are 58 years old this year, and your spouse is 72 and still working part-time, hopefully for as long as he can.

Neither of you were able to progress professionally the way you would have liked to, it was simply too difficult to leave him for any extended period of time.

Thank goodness, your other children are self-sufficient. Soon, you will have to try and find separate health insurance for him, too.

You have tried to get him many jobs, but transportation problems have been a constant obstruction.

Everyone told you to try and get some life insurance to take care the boy after you are gone, but it just could not be managed.

Fast Forward

You knock off your job at a nearby local restaurant. The pay isn't much, but thankfully, there are many locals patronising the place, and your boss is real good.

He doesn't mind if you have to make a quick trip home to check on your son. Besides, it's a relief to take a break from standing all day. You are 73 years old now, he is 32.

He has a job that he loves, where the supervisors are patient and understanding, but he only brings home about $12 dollars a day, four days a week.

It's hardly enough to feed him; but the public transportation free pass is gone and full fare takes almost half his pay.

His father passed a few years ago, cancer, worked almost up to the end. It is a real struggle now, to make ends meet, but you miss him terribly for his positive attitude toward life and his gentle way with the boy.

You and he used to talk about retirement planning after all those articles we saw on the Internet and everywhere, you know? But, we never really knew what that meant, to be able to plan way ahead. It was not written in the stars, I guess.

The boy still has his job, but for how long? You haven't been feeling well yourself, and you worry, you worry. "What is going to happen to this child when I am gone?"

Many people have never had the luck of the draw; yet, they, too, somehow, in great dignity, ultimately carry on, playing the hand they are dealt in life.

Written for all those who have never been able to live life to the fullest and have departed from us long before their time. And, In memory of all the unsung heroes of the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and Pennsylvania, and those others gone before, selfless individuals all who made the world a better place for the rest of us.

We will mourn and remember your senseless and tragic leaving forever.

Martha Harris Myron CPA CFP, is a Bermudian and a Comprehensive Financial Planner practitioner. The opinions in this column are the author's alone and are not endorsed by any organisation. Under no circumstances are the comments in this column to be taken as specific recommendations on the purchase or sale of securities or any other investment.