Searching for inspiration, as you care for a challenging
"Someone" with special needs?
Share the Story of Jeff Reisch and his family, who lived
with Down Syndrome for 27 years.
You will fall in love with Jeff's infectious grin, his love of music,
and the amazing influence he had on the people around him. You will
connect with the frustration, the embarrassment, and the surprises
of joy; knowing you are not alone.
Sybil Reisch is a retired teacher, the mother of two, a delighted
grandmother, beloved wife. She enjoys being a published writer, leading
retreats, reading, driving anywhere and keeping in touch with the
happenings on LAI (Lifetime Assistance Inc), the organization that
cared so thoroughly for Jeff. The people in her life make her rich
indeed.
"Journey with Jeff" is
available in 5 CD's at the cost of $15.00 plus $5 shipping and in
3 Tapes for $10.00 plus $5 shipping.
To place an order:
Write to Sybil Reisch at 20 Westwood Drive, Brockport, New York 14420-1743
or call her @ 585-395-1463
or email her @ rsreisch@frontiernet.net
Excerpts from "Journey
with Jeff"
Struck Numb
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from
helping me, from the words of my groaning? Psalm 22:1
Eighteen-month-old Jeff was happy anywhere he went. He loved to smile
at people, and to give them hugs. I knew he wouldn’t mind seeing another
doctor, but I was on edge outside the unfamiliar office, and impatient
to know what this doctor would tell us about the persistently noisy
breathing. The nurse opened the door and called our name.
Jeff grabbed my fingers and two of Bob’s, lifted himself up, and
led the way into the office. The nurse smiled, and I returned her
smile, hoping it foretold good news. Healthy ivy and spider plants
hung from the windows, and there was a palm tree in the corner of
the room. I wondered, “Did I water mine at home?”
The faint smell of rubbing alcohol, the tall cabinet of instruments,
and the examining table in the middle of the room rudely reminded
me of where we were. I liked the music by Mozart that was playing,
and was glad it wasn’t popular tunes or show tunes because when I
had something important to do, classical music always helped me concentrate.
The tall, slim, forty-ish looking specialist appeared and spoke in
quiet, friendly tones to Jeff and to us. He took his time checking
Jeff’s history, watching him pull himself around the office mostly
in a sitting position. “Okay, Cowboy!” he finally said, “Are you ready
to get up here and let me check you out?”
With a big smile, Jeff allowed himself to be lifted up onto the examination
table. While he checked Jeff’s active body, and I held my breath,
the specialist asked unhurried, studied questions about that noisy
breathing. I began to relax and to feel optimistic.
Then he asked about the age at which Jeff had raised his head, had
sat up, stood up, and started walking. “Jeff took his first steps
alone about four weeks ago,” I told the doctor, with a proud grin.
“He loves walking around our house, pulling us by our fingers, trying
to race with our bouncing dog.”
“Seventeen months old when he started to walk, . . .” said the doctor,
slowly.
“Did you ever think, Mr. and Mrs. Reisch,….Did you ever think….
that Jeff might be retarded?”
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. The room seemed very hot. Retarded?
Our baby? Impossible! Slow – maybe, but nothing to be worried about.
. . .The doctor’s voice, describing various signs of retardation,
darted in and out of my thoughts, shooting down bright hopes and dreams
for Jeff, one by one, exploding them out of existence.
I wanted to scream at the doctor, “NO! You are WRONG!” Instead, I
gathered our papers and our coats mechanically, cold shivers running
down my back. I needed desperately to get away from that office. Bob’s
arm steered us steadily to the car. Holding Jeff close in my arms
all the way home, I rocked him and crooned insensibly:
"Bye Baby Bunting ----- Daddy's gone a-hunting........" My voice
cracked, but I kept on crooning. Numbly, staring into space, with
tears running down my face, I repeatedly told myself, "When Jeff wakes
up he will be our normal child again...Please God. How do I pray,
LORD?...How do I pray?
The Black Bicycle
“As an eagle stirs up its nest, and hovers over its young; as it
spreads its wings, takes them up, and bears them aloft on its pinions,
the LORD alone guided him.” Deuteronomy 32:11
What joy I felt, even as I stood breathless from running the length
of five houses and back many times! Jeff had learned to ride his shiny
black bicycle!
The next day as I checked on Jeff and Jennifer playing outside, I
saw her in the yard across the street. Jeff was on his bike, and he
spotted her, too. Suddenly, he turned and rode across the street toward
the kids, looking neither left or right.
A car, moving slowly, stopped for him. I stood paralyzed! Then, smiling
my embarrassed thanks to the driver, I rushed over to Jeff. His eyes
were big as I approached.
“Jeffrey Otto Reisch, you could have been hurt! Hurt so bad!” I
yelled. “You rode your bike right in front of that car. I ought to
take that bike and put it away for a whole week! You didn’t even see
that car, did you?”
“No, Mom, no. No bike away.” My heart was pounding. Jeff was crying.
The kids were quiet, watching. “No, Mom, no bike away!” “Look, Jeff!
We’ll have to practice! You HAVE to stop before you cross the street.
You HAVE to get off your bike. You HAVE to look left, right, and then
left again. Now, you do it. Stop! Get off! Look left! Look right!
Look left again!” We practiced and practiced.
“Next time you cross the street without looking, young man, your
bike WILL go away!
Now, let’s call Mr. Barresi and tell him what you’ve learned.”
“Yeah, Mom,” says a weary, and relieved young bicyclist.
“Teaching young eagles to fly is rather difficult, isn’t it Creator
God?”
Big Bird’s Car
“But all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of
things shall be well.” Julian of Norwich (14th century writer)
“Big Bird!” Jeff shouted the greeting with a great grin as Lance,
a Relief Counselor, arrived to work at South Avenue. Lance parked
in the back of the house and Jeff met him at his car to say hello.
Bright summer heat hung in the air and everyone was outside, glad
to have a weekend day to spend busily doing nothing. Lance greeted
his friends and went in the house to check on his duties for the day.
There was plenty to do and Lance set about the tasks at hand.
About an hour later Jeff came into the house quite visibly excited.
“What’s up, Jeff?” Lance asked. “I helped you!” Jeff replied, barely
able to contain his exhilaration and joy.
Lance replied, “What do you mean, Jeff?”
Jeff said again, “Big Bird, I helped you!” Now he was so energized
he was trembling and clapping his hands together.
Lance said, “Show me Jeff,” and followed him as Jeff scooted out
the door. Jeff continued grinning widely and clapping his hands as
he led Lance out to the back yard to show off the great thing he had
done. He had washed Lance’s car, and Lance was quite pleased to see
the sun gleaming off his little turquoise Datsun B210. It was shiny
and clean and Jeff was proud and overjoyed at the job he had done
helping out his friend, “Big Bird” with his car.
As Lance and Jeff came closer to the car, Lance noticed that the
passenger side window was partially open. Lance opened the car door
and water washed out as if a dam had broken. The inside floor of the
car was full of water. Jeff giggled with delight. Jeff repeated over
and over again, “I helped you. I helped you!” He was so happy to have
helped his friend.
Lance asked Jeff, “What did you do here? Show me.” Jeff proceeded
to show and explain to his friend that after he had completed washing
the outside of the car, he had taken the hose into the car to clean
the inside!!! Jeff showed Lance how he had systematically gone from
the back seat of the car to the front filling every nook and cranny
with water. The back window shelf, the ashtrays, the glove compartment,
the seats, the floor in the back and the front, the dashboard were
all soaking wet from having been washed by Jeff, who could barely
contain his excitement.
After his initial surprise, Lance explained to Jeff that you shouldn’t
wash the inside of a car with the hose. This made the seats wet and
now we had to dry them off. Jeff and Lance got some towels and set
about the task of cleaning up the wet insides of this drenched Datsun.
They set the floor mats out to dry and did their best to soak up as
much of the water as possible, leaving the windows and doors open
in hopes the warm summer winds would dry out the rest. As they worked
to drain and dry Lance’s car, Lance explained to Jeff that you wash
the outside of the car with a hose; you wash the inside with a vacuum
cleaner. Jeff nodded that he understood.
Then he came up to Lance and put his head on his shoulder, looking
into his face to say with a big smile, “Big Bird!”
Late that afternoon as the folks sat down to dinner, Jeff, as usual,
took the lead in saying grace before the meal. As he always did, Jeff
embarked on a lengthy conversation with God. He God-blessed each of
his family members, all his friends, the cat, and his friends on the
staff.
Then, Jeff looked up as said, “Please God, I’m sorry for what I did
to Big Bird’s car.” He repeated it, to make sure God had heard. Although
it had always been assumed that Jeff had a close relationship with
the Almighty, it was confirmed that summer evening.
Lance got in his car at the conclusion of his shift, started it up
and drove it home without any problems.
“Thank you, Almighty God, for the grace,…pure grace of Lance making
this a teachable moment. And, thank you for answering Jeff’s prayers!
Amen!”
The Tale of the French Toast
“Only infinite patience produces immediate results.” "The Course
in Miracles"
When Jeff was in his twenties, one of the staff at his Day Treatment
program told us this tale.
Part of Jeff’s day was spent learning to use the kitchen, and one
of his goals was to make French toast.
“It always came out soggy,” said his advocate.
“I was ready to go on to something else. Then one morning it turned
out just right. We celebrated! Everyone around had a piece of Jeff’s
French Toast.”
Jeff’s sense of self-esteem grew out of the expectancy, encouragement
and endurance of the people around him.
“Gracious God, there is not enough room for our thanks to you and
to the LAI staff for the ways in which Jeff grew because of them!”
