My dearest, dearest friend,
I think that I owe you an apology. Having written and written and written, and published it here, in the most public of fashions, and criticised and ranted and stomped around, and complained about the power behind other people’s words, I forgot that these rules apply to me too.
I forgot that when I put my fingers to the keyboard that my words are fearsome. They tinkle out of my consciousness and splash, rippling through the interspehere, directly into your mind’s eye. I forgot that when you read these words of mine, these words that I have spent time crafting so that they can attempt to hold the emotion I feel, that, as well as changing minds, they too can wound, and damage that which I hold most dear – your friendship.
I forgot that I am just as guilty of putting my foot in it as anyone else. And because I spend so much time in my head, mentally composing, I get a bit carried away.
So don’t forget to tell me when I overstep the mark. And don’t, whatever you do, feel that these words of mine are directed at you. They aren’t.
They are directed at a world that doesn’t understand even remotely what it is like to live with a child with Down Syndrome – and you do. You might not know it all, but because you bother, you listen, you read, you laugh and cry with me, you understand more than you think.
So thank you for reading this blog. Thank you for listening to me when nothing will do other than to put the world to rights over a cuppa. Thank you for taking Sam into your heart, for making him, and me, a part of your family; for including us in your life.
All my love,