You may already be familiar with the following. It first appeared on my Facebook page and then on the Phases of Womanhood Web site last fall. March 25th is my brother's birthday, so I thought it appropriate to publish it again here.
All of his life, my brother Jim, born prematurely with cerebral palsy and an acute hearing deficiency, has been responding to the will of God. From his earliest days he remembers experiencing a closeness to God and a strong desire to do His bidding.
Jim was already 11 years old by the time I appeared on the scene, he the number two child and I the sixth of seven children. Growing up, he displayed a burly stubbornness and conviction tempered only by a sensitive heart that sorely ached when injured by the uncharitable words and deeds of others. I witnessed my brother’s unyielding compassion and empathy for suffering souls that was bred out of his own suffering. He knew what it meant to be ridiculed for appearing and sounding ‘different’. He knew what it meant to be told “no” over and over again when his entire being was screaming, “YES! I can! I must!” He knew what it meant to have his dreams crushed by the words “you can’t” or “you will never.” He knew what the words, “you’re handicapped” and “you’re deaf” can do to a child.
My brother loved me unconditionally. He has related how overjoyed he was at my birth, how he couldn’t wait to meet me. I didn’t grow up thinking his handicap was particularly unusual. He was the big brother every girl should have. He taught me to drive and often listened to my school girl musings while hardly ever turning off his hearing aids! He spoiled me with gifts out of sheer love and enthusiasm for who I was and am. My siblings and I didn’t treat him any differently than we treated each other. He was involved in just as many sibling squabbles as any of us. I am convinced, however, that we all grew up with a strong desire to defend the underdog. Our older brother in particular often came to Jim’s defense on the playground or in the back yard whenever ill-mannered neighborhood children jeered at him.
As we matured, in many ways Jim became my spiritual director. Utterly wooed by the growing secularism of the 1970’s, I often ranted against Church doctrine; those tenets of the faith that seemed unjust, or out-of-touch with reality. Jim tried his best to remind me of the fundamental truths of the faith, patiently, never giving up, but always reminding and nudging gently. How exasperated he must have been with my picking and choosing! As a young wife and mother in the 1980’s I had nicely settled into a life of cafeteria style Catholicism, but through it all I experienced an interior urging not only to seek the truth, but to embrace it. When my brother entered the seminary, I was jealous of his opportunity to be totally submerged in learning about Jesus and the Church. I peppered him with questions and enjoyed our conversations over the phone about everything he was learning. Thankfully, over the years I came to understand and trust the wisdom of Church teaching. My own faith has grown by leaps and bounds and Fr. Jim’s loving support has been instrumental in my journey.
Ours is a unique and loving relationship … my brother’s and mine. But a more remarkable relationship exists; a relationship between a physically handicapped man and his God. A man, who many deemed imperfect and not “good enough” and never “smart enough” has been serving God as a devoted and holy priest in the
Happy Birthday, Fr. Jim! I love you!
Darby C. Fitzpatrick (c) 2009
It gets more wonderful each time I read it.
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