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If the Meaning of Life is Based on Accomplishments, Intelligence, Popularity, or Beliefs, Then My Sister’s Life Has No Meaning
I refuse to believe that!
Last month, Kimberly Tubbs celebrated her 50th birthday. It was a small celebration — attended by my wife and me, her housemates, and the special needs care workers who are the biggest blessings in our world today.
The celebration was small because few people know Kimberly Tubbs. Those who do call her “Kim.” That is, except for me. To me, she’ll always be “Kimmy.” That’s because she’s my sister — and my parents and I called her “Kimmy” her whole life.
Kimmy was diagnosed at a very young age with “severe mental retardation and autism.” In the years since, her diagnosis has shifted to the more sensitive term “intellectual disability.” The bottom line is still the same: Despite being 50 years old, she has the mind of a child. Not just a child, but a very young child.
She can’t read or write. She can’t carry on a conversation with you. She only knows a few words. She knows “Yeah” and “No” and a few other words like “water,” “soup,” “cake,” etc. But she leaves off key syllables and her pronunciation is difficult to understand. It takes effort to figure out what she’s saying. Sometimes, you can’t.
