Vicky never spoke a word and spent most of her life in a wheelchair. She gazed out at the world with serious eyes, probably because she had very low muscle-tone and couldn't easily smile, but if her great-grandad (one of her favourite people) arrived, her face would light up as her eyes followed him across the room.
Jeff had the smile of an angel. He would beam at everyone who passed him as he sat in his chair during the happy days he spent at the centre for adults with learning disabilities. It is nearly 10 years since he died but the two hats, one of which was on his head from morning till night, still adorn his mother's armchair. It was 4 years before she was able to part with his single bed which lay beside hers.
My image of Vicky, when she died, was that she had exchanged her wheelchair for a trapeze and was swinging above the clouds and laughing with the angels - and with her great-grandad of course.
I never saw more love bestowed on two human beings than I saw showered upon these two beautiful people.
Of course there are difficulties and sorrows. Maybe you don't realise at the beginning that you're taking on a life-long commitment (maybe that's as well); maybe you do know and feel scared and wonder if and how you'll cope.
All I know is that the people I've met who are in that situation would all say that their lives had been immeasurably blessed by their loved one. Jeff's mum gave the greatest example of love I've ever heard. She said that if someone had told her when Jeff was 7, that there'd been a mix-up at birth and presented her with a perfectly healthy boy, she'd say, "Oh no, we wouldn't part with Jeff now".
May all the world learn to see all human life in this light.
