Walter Hinteler wrote:My SIS is most heavily disabled, blind, can barely speak, moves only in a wheelchair, ... ... but is pleased to be driven to work every day, go on holidays to Spain and Greece twice per year and wants to be looked at as a 51 year old woman and not a child.
I've made the same experiences with all those disabled, who lived in the house/groups I led - but different with their parents (and my in-laws as well, besides the twin sister of the disabled).
I don't want to wade too deeply into this well. I understand (or at least I think I do) the parents' motivation and, certainly, Ashley is entitled to be held and have human contact as much as possible.
Keeping her small certainly seems the best way to do that but, at the same time, it seems she's been permanently infantilized. Now, I'm well aware that her capabilities aren't going to go beyond an infant stage. And, of course, giving her a hysterectomy means she wouldn't be saddled with a pregnancy if abused (this happens and it's horrible). I'm all for that, all on that page.
But there is a level of infantilizing, still. I thought about an earlier comment -- I think it was from flushd and it may have been on a different topic -- re the removal of breast tissue. Without a period and with probably pretty limited nutritional options, I don't imagine that Ashley is going to become a D cup any time soon. So that got me to thinking of the infantilizing aspect of it all.
She's small. She's childlike. She's cute. She's cooing and playful (I hope). But she's not going to be an actual
child forever. And, somewhere in there, all the hiding and manipulating and surgery and concealment are going to give up that information. Is it better or acceptable or is it heartbreaking, to keep her small, childlike, cute, etc. but also wrinkled and with grey hair? Or does the slippery slope lead to Botox and Miss Clairol, too?
I do not blame the parents. And, it's been said above, that some of this behavior seems driven by a desire or need to do all of the caregiving. That is loving and noble and unselfish but eventually it won't be possible, no matter how small Ashley is. At some point, her parents will become elderly. Or sick. Or disabled themselves -- what is it -- something like a quarter of all adults will become disabled at some point? A parent's heart attack will change everything. Or a stroke. Or chemo.
And, eventually, Mom and Dad just simply won't exist any more. I'm sure that must be a big worry -- what to do, how to provide as well as possible, for the inevitable after parental life care?
I have no answers for this, just some troubling thoughts, I suppose.