"Dear Sam," the first letter began, "As your only living grandfather, I wanted to welcome you into this world. Always remember that...life is a gift and a blessing." But only 14 months after his first note, grandfather Dan learned that Little Sam had been diagnosed with pervasive developmental disability, a form of autism. At that moment, the letters took on a new meaning and urgency.

Summary

When his grandson was born, Daniel Gottlieb began to write a series of heartfelt letters that he hoped Sam would read later in life. He planned to cover all the important topics—dealing with your parents, handling bullies, falling in love, coping with death—and what motivated him was the fear that he might not live long enough to see Sam reach adulthood. You see, Daniel Gottlieb is a person with quadriplegia—the result of a near-fatal automobile accident that occurred two decades ago—and he knows enough not to take anything for granted.

Then, when Sam was only fourteen months old, he was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disability, a form of autism, and suddenly everything changed. Now the grandfather and grandson were bound by something more: a disability—and Daniel Gottlieb's special understanding of what that means became invaluable.

“I wept for Sam. I realized that I had more than ever to tell him. . . I wanted to teach him what I've learned about fighting against the kind of adversity that I face almost daily and fear he will face also. And I wanted to tell him how peace often happens when we simply stop fighting."

A lovingly written, emotionally gripping book that offers unique -- and universal -- insights into what it means to be human.

Table of Content

   
Introduction 13
   
Part 1: WELCOME TO THE WORLD  
Your Birth  
Reclaiming Your Wisdom 24
Lap Time 26
Your Perfection 28
   
Part II: ABOUT YOUR FAMILY  
Your Father and My Father 35
Aunt Sharon's Secret 41
Your Grandmother Sandy 46
   
Part III. YOU AND ME, SAM  
Give Kindness a Chance 57
Compassion Works Both Ways 60
Seeing the Person 64
Our Frustrations and Our Desires 69
Anger and Justice 72
Healing Our Wounds 75
   
Part IV. YOUR BODY, MIND, AND SPIRIT  
Sex, Lies, and What It Means to Be a Man 83
The Dangers of Desire 86
Bright Light and Still Water 89
Your Three Millimeters 95
Those Who Float 100
The Journey Inside 103
   
PART V. WHAT'S AHEAD FOR YOU  
Losing Your Binky 109
Things to Remember About Bullies 112
Taking Care of Your Parents 117
Road Maps 122
What Does Happiness Mean? 128
Fig Leaves 132
   
PART VI. YOUR PLACE IN THE WORLD  
The Smell of Peace 139
Being "Productive" 144
You and Your Tiger 147
A Lesson in Dying 151
Make the Container Bigger 154
Your Birthday Gift to Me 159
   
AFTERWORD  
Saying Good-bye 165
"Guest House" 169
   
Resources 171
Acknowledgements 173

 

Excerpts

From “Seeing the Person”

Dear Sam,

…Sam, I know your mother struggles with having you categorized as "autistic" in school. While she realizes you must be classified that way in order to receive the services you need, she also knows that you are so much more than autistic. She fears that once you have that label, that's all anyone will see.

As I'm watching you grow, your abilities change almost every day. When you were first diagnosed with PDD, your parents and I did all the research we could to find out what was in store for you. We learned that you would have language difficulties. We anticipated that you would first communicate in sign language -- as you did for the first three years of your life.

From our research into PDD, your parents and I also knew that it would interfere with your ability to be flexible and to pick up social cues. We were told that you would have trouble with fine motor dexterity, but no problem with gross motor skills. We continue to see that. You still can't put on your coat or open a Ziploc bag. But you've become quite a golf and baseball player.

So the label we learned -- PDD -- helped tell us some important things about your disability. But it was only a starting point. Now you are talking quite a bit, and we're learning more about who you are. Every day, we make discoveries about your abilities and limitations, your likes and dislikes, what you can tolerate and what you can't.

I know that when other kids are talking, you are not able to go up to them and join in. You sometimes become upset if you can't put on your Spider-Man pajamas right after school. If you open a candy bar and it's already broken, or if you open a box of crayons and they're in the wrong order, you get very frustrated. When you were at Disney World, you couldn't go on some rides where you had to fasten a seat belt across your lap. Finally your mother understood what the problem was. You were wearing shorts and, to you, the pressure of the seat belt on your legs was terribly painful.

So it's quite true that you have to deal with autism. But autism is not who you are.

A couple of weeks after my accident, I was lying in my hospital bed and I heard my doctor in the hallway saying, "That quad in 301 -- did he get his medication?" Just a couple of weeks earlier I had been Dr. Gottlieb in some circles. In other circles, Dan. In others, Daddy. And now I was "the quad"?

Well, Sam, over the years I have learned that I am not a quadriplegic. I have quadriplegia. You are not autistic. You have autism. Because of our labels, some people will be afraid to approach us. Others will be cautious about talking to us or trusting us. With my spinal cord injury and your autism, we look different and act different. But we can also teach people…that no matter what happens to our bodies or our minds, our souls remain whole.

Published Reviews

Within the first minute of reading this book, I had already begun to ask deep questions about my life. And within the second minute, I knew he was speaking as much to me as Sam. But by the third minute, I forgot I was even reading, and I felt more like I was in the great classroom of life, learning lessons that I will treasure forever.

Rachel Simon, author of Riding the Bus With My Sister

Dan's love of Sam is indeed an exquisite love . . . After reading these powerful words, I look at my own beloved grandchildren in a different light.

Betty Williams, Nobel Peace Laureate, President and Founder of
World Centers of Compassion for Children International

"What a delicious read! Daniel Gottlieb's Letters to Sam touches us deeply in ways that can help us all learn to live richer, more satisfying lives. Its wisdom and insight justify him as one of America's favorite psychologists.

Kathy Hirsh-Pasek, Ph.D., author of Einstein Never Used Flashcards
and How Babies Talk

Letters to Sam is heartbreaking and heart-mending all at the same time. Dan has the authority of living through the extremities of pain and loss, so when you bite down on his wisdom, it's gold. I want to give this book to everyone I care about.

Ellen Bass, award-winning poet

Letters to Sam is a remarkable book that I want to give to my wife and friends and family. I also want to share this book with my son who has special needs, along with his teachers and the parents at his school because it does a beautiful job of describing the beauty and richness of being unique and highly sensitive.

Leonard Felder, Ph.D., author of The Ten Challenges

In irreducibly simple yet profound words, Dr. Dan Gottlieb shares the wisdom he has derived from living in a wheelchair, battling his own inner demons, and practicing psychology for the past 35 years. Letters to Sam is a guide for the soul, and a wonderful gift to all families."

Robert A. Naseef, Ph.D., author of Special Children, Challenged Parents
and co-editor of Voices from the Spectrum

 

Reader Reviews

Email your review to reviews@disabilitiesbooks.com

Meet The Author

Daniel Gottlieb, Ph.D., a practicing psychologist and family therapist, is the host of "Voices in the Family" on WHYY, Philadelphia's National Public Radio affiliate. A columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer, he is author of two books, including a collection of his columns entitled Voices of Conflict; Voices of Healing (People with Disabilities Press, 2001). He is the father of two daughters, and Sam is his only grandson. The author's royalties will benefit Cure Autism Now and other children's health organizations.