What a Friend Means to DillonBy Sondra White
Darla smiled as her son climbed into the car after school that day.
“Momma, a fwiend’s comin’ ober later, OK?” he said with his usual excitement.
She paused, gave him another big smile, and replied, “Sure, Dillon―that sounds great!”
It wasn’t the first time her 15-year-old son had come home from school with the notion that a friend might come over. She knew it was unlikely; especially considering this was his first week as a freshman at Iola High School. But why ruin his fun by asking a bunch of questions? It couldn’t hurt to let him wonder if someone might actually show up this time.
You see, unlike most kids his age, Dillon never had any friends drop by to play or just hang out. Rare was the time he was invited to a birthday party or sleepover. It was no one’s fault. Their five-acre country home doesn’t exactly lend itself to frequent neighborly visits. And it’s human nature for most children to steer clear of those who are different.
Dillon’s Grand Entrance
Dillon was one in about 700 Americans born with Down syndrome. He made a dramatic entrance into the world with a webbed intestine, a mangled heart and only a 50-50 chance of survival.
“When my grandparents came to the hospital, they looked through the window and noticed the doctors were frantically working on Dillon,” Darla said. “They told me that life flight was on the way to take him to Houston, and that’s when I really went crazy!”
Oblivious to the pain of a C-section through which Dillon was delivered, Darla insisted on driving to Houston with her husband, Shane, to be near their son, who was admitted to the Turner Unit for infants in critical condition. In the hours that followed Dillon’s parents would learn that not only did he have a webbed intestine that required immediate surgery, but he was born with Down syndrome and serious heart defect.
“It was a long and traumatic beginning, but at 11 months Dillon had open-heart surgery, and since then life has been great!” Darla says. “He was welcomed in Iola as a miracle kid.”
No Imaginary Friend
About 30 minutes after Darla and Dillon got home from school that day, she heard the sound of rubber on gravel as a vehicle drove up to the house. A few second later, she heard a car door slam.
“I didn’t think much of it,” she says. “I figured it was Shane coming home from work early or maybe the UPS man.”
Suddenly, Dillon was dashing down the hallway toward her, yelling at top of his lungs, “Mom! My fwiend’s here! My fwiend’s here!”
“I still thought that Dillon might have been imagining all this,” Darla said, “but sure enough I looked outside and there he was―a real-live friend who had driven over to our house to hang out with my son!”
Brett introduced himself to Darla, gave Dillon a high five, and the two casually walked away toward the back room to play video games. They had met that day at school, and Bret had asked Dillon if he could come by to hang out after school. Having never met a stranger in his life, Dillon said, “Sure!” and gave Brett directions to the house. Miraculously, Brett actually showed up.
“They played video games, shot BB guns and went fishing down at our tank,” Darla said. Shane got home later and asked, “Who’s that down at the tank with Dillon?” When Darla told him the good news, they let the boys hang out until nearly 10 p.m. “Shane finally had to break up the party and tell Brett to go home so Dillon could get some sleep,” Darla said. “Dillon told us it was the best day ever.”
The World Through Dillon’s Eyes
Dillon’s been enrolled in public school since the age of 3, and has been included in all classes and activities. “The teachers, administrators and most kids don’t treat him any differently,” Darla says, “but as he gets older it becomes clear that he doesn’t advance the same way other children do.”
Despite cognitive challenges that make it difficult for him to read, write and speak, the word “can’t” does not exist in the Dyke family vocabulary. Dillon loves to ski on snow and water, plays golf and ping-pong, drives a go-kart and boat, and enjoys fishing with his brother.
“Dillon has made me a better person and actually makes everyone who knows him a better person,” Darla says. “I always tell people, ‘If you could see the world through Dillon’s eyes for one day, you’d see a beautiful place.’ He sees no bad in anyone. Even when other kids are cruel―like the time not too long ago that a bully pushed him into a locker at school―he says, ‘It’s OK Mom, they can still be my friends.’ ”
Walk for Acceptance
Darla says it’s this unconditional love and acceptance in people with Down syndrome that brings meaning to the Buddy Walk―an annual fundraiser for the Down Syndrome Association of Brazos Valley. “This to me is the most important message of Buddy Walk,” she says. “If our children can show such remarkable caring for others, it’s only fair that we accept them for who they are, regardless of their differences.”
Through the Down Syndrome Association, the Dyke family and others like them have grown through support and activities that focus on education, sharing and advocacy. Darla says it’s nice to know she can always turn to a group of friends who are nonjudgmental and share a common bond. “I never feel alone like I did before,” she says, “and I’ve made the best friends anyone could ask for.
“People with Down syndrome are almost like everyone else in the world,” she says. “But they have a much better understanding of life and love.”
To register for the 6th Annual Buddy Walk, go to www.downsyndromeofbcs.com.
