Ode to B

Our family is quite different from those around we know
See, usually each child gains independence as they grow
Learns toothbrushing and getting dressed, and how to talk and smile
Or maybe ride a bike, or cook, or run for miles and miles

Now B’s a rare and precious gem; unique I guess you’d say
He’s almost eight years old but hasn’t spoken to this day
He tries so hard to let us know what’s going on inside
But sometimes it’s too tricky and he ends up way too tired

The memories of baby groups are hard to bring to mind
I sat there smiling outwardly, while way deep down I cried.
The other mums bragged proudly of their babies expertise
And me? Well, I had nothing- it brought me to my knees

While toddlers started chatting, and copying mum and dad
B screamed and roared and cried a lot; my heart it hurt so bad
I tried all the usual parent tricks to try and help my boy
But nothing worked (except sometimes a loud and flashy toy!)

As time went on the fog let up- we had a clearer view
B was slow no matter what we did or didn’t do
A whole new host of issues to deal with day-by-day
A brand new destination, but we didn’t know the way

Appointments, meetings, therapies, carers, respite, jobs
The endless stream of admin that never seems to stop
People say “I couldn’t’ but we really have no choice.
Our child’s so very vulnerable- we NEED to be his voice

Every day is different, but the common running thread
Is that B needs someone there with him right til he goes to bed.
The things you take for granted which your able kids can do,
Are things we need to do for B; for him it all seems new.

Despite the tricky challenges a special child can bring,
He’s taught me how to laugh through tears; instead of crying, sing.
The world puts so much value on measuring our worth,
But worth cannot be measured for each person on this earth.

Who can price an attitude that valiantly soldiers on?
A laugh? A smile that lights up hearts? A softly whispered song?
The touch that wipes a tear away, the deep connected life
That bonds a son to mother, and a husband to his wife

Next time you see a child like B, I urge you to look deep
To see beyond your first glance to the soul that’s underneath
Disabled? Yes. But more than that, a strong and gorgeous boy

Who causes lots of chaos, but brings enormous joy.


  1. Beautiful poem Lucy, sending you lots of love, strength and courage. xxx


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Epilepsy-the hundred-headed shape-shifter

Broken systems, broken people

Bluesday Wednesday