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A DIFFERENT
DRUMMER by EDNA M. WILKINSON |
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I stared back at
the doctor,
unbelieving, and everything stood still for
what seemed like an eternity. My heart. My
mind. My world. Time itself.
The word “mongoloid” conjured up a vision of
something horrible. I was shocked and
stunned. What was a mongoloid? Was my
child deformed, disfigured, or some kind of
monster?
The doctor continued talking, but his words
came to me from a great distance. It was as
if I was standing outside my life, looking
on as some other person, a stranger, was
being given this terrible news. I tried to
speak, but no words came. Numb with
disbelief, shock and horror, I could only
hear that word “mongoloid” echo in my mind
like a needle stuck in a record groove.
As I lay there thinking this must be a
terrible nightmare, I wished I could have
died. The woman in the other bed was gazing
across at me with pity in her eyes, and I
turned my back to her and cried. I scarcely
heard the doctor saying, “We’ll talk later”,
as he left the room.
The tears wouldn’t stop. Surely it must be
my fault, I told myself, or some terrible
punishment God was inflicting on me for
reasons known only to him. I must have done
something wrong. Things like this only
happened to other people.
What would I tell my husband, my family and
friends? What had I done to deserve
something like this? How could I cope with
it? Why me, God? What was I going to do?
And in between the questions, I cried.
When they finally brought the baby in, I was
afraid to look at him. I had no idea what
to expect, so I just held him in my arms for
a while, sitting up in bed, rocking slowly
back and forth. The warm little body
nestled into me felt like a baby, and
smelled like a baby. How bad could it be?
And as the tears began to fall again, I told
myself that whatever he was, he was mine.
It took all of the courage I could muster to
lift the corner of the blanket. I was
surprised that he looked almost the same as
my other children, and the same feelings of
love and tenderness began to flow toward
this small bundle of humanity to whom I had
given life.
There was the stirring of another emotion,
too. A fierce protectiveness welled up
inside me, and as I turned, half-defiantly,
to the woman in the other bed, she smiled
and remarked, “Look at his cute little
nose!”
I blessed her silently as I returned her
smile. At that moment, an Emily Dickinson
line came to mind; “Hope is the thing with
feathers that perches in the soul.”
Copyright 2007 Edna M. Wilkinson
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PRESS RELEASE
For Immediate Release
NAPANEE
AREA AUTHOR RELEASES NEW BOOK
"A Different
Drummer" offers insight into life with the
mentally handicapped
November 23, 2006
“Hope is the thing with
feathers that perches in the soul.” Those
wise words from Emily Dickinson gave
strength to author Edna Wilkinson the first
time she looked into the eyes of her tenth
child, born with Down’s syndrome. For years,
the Napanee-area writer jotted down her
secret feelings, hopes and fears, bringing
them all together in this short novel that
will transport readers into the daily life
of a young mother and her mentally
handicapped son. “A Different Drummer” will
also remind parents raising a Down’s
syndrome child that they are not alone.
Edna Wilkinson has waited a
long time for this. The writer began to pen
the story of her life with Todd when he was
still a teenager. Todd is thirty-eight now,
and many things have changed over the
years for the family living at the eastern
tip of Hay Bay. A string of weddings through
the '70's and '80's resulted in numerous
grandchildren and great grandchildren, and
as Todd's siblings left the nest, life
gradually slowed down. The days are quieter.
There's more time to enjoy the beautiful
sunsets over the water. More time for
reflection - and writing.
It all started with “Autumn
in the Country”, a poem that Wilkinson -
then Edna Roberts, composed while attending Napanee
Collegiate Vocational Institute in 1939.
After it was published in the Napanee
Beaver, the aspiring author went on to
become an award-winning writer whose
inspirational articles and poems have
appeared in numerous magazines. In 1973 she
was awarded first and second place in
Kingston’s Tercentenary contest, for her
creation of the winning slogan, “Historic
Past, Promising Future.”
A mother to ten children,
much of Wilkinson’s writing has been
inspired by her family life. Born in Canada
in 1925, she met and married R.A.F.
serviceman Frank Wilkinson, who was
stationed in Kingston during the Second
World War. She moved with him to England in
1944, and spent three years in his hometown
of Maryport, Cumberland, before returning to
Canada. The Wilkinsons lived in Kingston for
many years until making the move to
Adolphustown in 1970, where they settled
their family on the same land on which Edna
was raised by Wes and Ida Young in the
'30's.
Wilkinson’s daughter Rebecca
Black, herself a writer, encouraged her
mother to finally achieve her dream of
becoming a published author.
To that end,
Rebecca began her own small publishing
company, "Gypsy Isle Publishing", based in
Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island.
"Millions of books are written in North
America every year," the independent
publisher points out, "But very few of those
books are ever published. Most end up hidden
away in a forgotten drawer in a writing
desk. Many people dream of writing a best
seller, and some have, but unfortunately no
one's had a chance to read those books
because they've never been published." Black
hopes to change that through her upstart
company. "I want to support emerging
writers, whether they're eighteen or
eighty-one, like my mother."
"A Different Drummer" is
available at Gray’s IDA Drugstore in
downtown Napanee. Copies can also be
ordered online at
www.amazon.ca,
and from the Gypsy Isle Publishing website
at www.gypsyislepublishing.com
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Other
Books by Edna Wilkinson |
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Keepsakes
of the Heart
Edna Wilkinson’s second
book, “Keepsakes of the
Heart” follows the
author on her life’s
journey, as the mother
of ten reflects on loves
lost and friends
departed. Moving full
circle from her
childhood on a
depression-era farm,
through the births of
her own children in the
delivery room, and on to
her twilight years, the
author leaves a loving
legacy of Keepsakes of
the Heart.
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