Knowing Me, Knowing You.

It might be a parent thing. It might be a 'me' thing. It was the same with his little brother. When he was a baby I used to worry that something would happen to me and Little M wouldn't 'know' me, that I'd just be a name, a photograph but not a memory.

As he grew he into a lovely, lively, little boy we talked, we played, we got to know one another and we continue to shape each other every day.

I no longer have The Fear with him.

I have it with Tokoroth though. I worry that he will never know me, that we'll never build that relationship, that if something happens to me we will never really have spoken, never really have learned of each other or not in a way that would stem this fear.

Before Little M could speak I kept a diary of my early days with him, documented our moonlight strolls when I took him out in his pram, I added photographs of us, when he was a tiny baby, watching the sun rise over Spitalfield's market on a Sunday morning, so that if anything happened he'd know that we did stuff, he'd know that we'd spent that time together and that could help seed some memories.

Different but Amazing.

As I struggle to apply the same process to Tokoroth I am reminded that when you are a parent or carer for a child with special needs you have to accept that the rules are different and so it's time to quite pandering to The Fear and just enjoy the amazing but different times that we have.

The memories will surely follow.