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Living with Luke 80

August 11, 2017

Tiddles is happy. Tiddles lives in Narnia, “his own private wonderland, where everything is perfect for him”.
But I’m not part of his happiness. I am somebody to deal with in order to get the things that he wants, and what he wants are food, DVD’s, things from iTunes, trains and the occasional gluten, wheat and dairy free chocolate rice milk. Oh, and somebody to clean his bottom – but we won’t dwell on that.

And that makes me sad. 

More, it sometimes physically upsets me inside. To be rejected by your child, one of the most important things/people in your life, can ACTUALLY hurt you, stress you, cause you pain.


To know that he is happy, safe, looked after, without a care in the world, except where the next things above are coming from – including the personal hygiene,  but we won’t dwell on that…

That makes me happy.

Happy in the sense that I am here to provide those services to him. Understand I don’t go around with a big goofy grin on my face, especially when he shouts downstairs that he’s finished on the toilet, but we won’t dwell on that.

He needs me. I know that I am not the only person that does things for him, but for all intents and purposes, for all the rejection, heartache, pain – both physical and mental – he needs me. 

And I know that to him it means nothing, because I’m just ‘that person’ that he cannot bear to even look at sometimes. But I’m here for him, to help him however I can and it could be a lot worse. 

It could also be a LOT better. 

But it isn’t. And as much as I hate what our relationship has become, I’m happy that he’s happy. I can see him sometimes in Narnia, and it looks like an awesome place to be. 

I just wish I could go there and share that happiness with him. But for now, and for however long it takes, I’ll be here, waiting. Waiting to do the next thing that he needs ME for. 

To show him, even if he cannot or will not see, that I love him.

And to see him happy.


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