‘I try not to mourn the life you haven’t had. It’s easy when I remember that you live in a world without sadness, fear, guilt’: the letter you always wanted to write
I don’t remember you being diagnosed, but I know I was nearly seven and you were nearly two. I do remember the metal braces that were strapped to your ankles for extra support when you were learning to walk, while other children your age tore around us.
I do remember crying on a walk home from primary school after being told that you needed glasses, because I couldn’t stop thinking, hasn’t he got enough to deal with already? I do remember lying in bed, praying to someone who even then I didn’t believe existed that I might wake up the next morning and find you miraculously “normal”.
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