In our culture we tend to put an extra burden on men to be strong and not cry. To bear burdens that mere mortals can't bear alone. My experience with the birth of my son Carl has shown me that it is a myth for men not to experience deep grief and it is normal to cry.

When Carl was born. I was devastated to learn he had Down syndrome. I wept for him, for myself, for his future, for my future. The unknown was definitely filled with fear. Several days after he was born I was driving in my car and just started sobbing. Through these tears I now know I was grieving, grieving the loss of what could be. Tears flowed for many months following Carl's birth. I wept as someone told me one month after Carl's birth that "I needed to get beyond this". Clearly, that person didn't know how to let me grieve.

Our culture tries to put exact time frames on grieving. That is nonsense. Everyone grieves in different ways and takes their own time to do so. Of course, with Down syndrome, as you know it is like a life long funeral. With a death it can be easier to mourn and move on. With a chronic condition you just can't do that.

More tears when I went to the Special Olympics in Bloomington, Illinois. I wept for joy as I watched athletes compete and win metals. I saw glimpses of what I thought Carl's future could be since he is very strong and athletic. I wept tears of joy as the athletes marched into the stadium for the opening ceremony. They seemed so proud of their accomplishments.

I mourn the fact that as a child I made fun of kids with disabilities who were different from me. I can recall their names and faces. God forgave me my ignorance and insensitivity as a child. Certainly I caused them pain as someone will cause Carl pain if he is made fun of. I'm sure it will come and I will probably cry after my anger subsides.

At the risk of sounding too depressed, I know more days will come when I shed tears of joy. When you learn to say Da-Da, when you meet me at the door when I come home from work, the joy touches my heart deeply. Joy when you could throw a ball with deadly accuracy. Tears of joy when people have reached out to you, who know what it means to have a child with special needs.

Carl has taught me to embrace my pain and tears. The only way "through the pain" is "through the pain". I know life will bring more pain, loss, and suffering, it always does. I have learned to let my tears flow freely. Tears seem to cleanse the soul as they flow. Who said, "Big boy's don't cry"?

Bryan - dad to Carl.
Fox River Grove, IL.
2002