LEAVE HIM AT THE MATERNITY HOSPITAL!
Just leave him, just leave him there! The hospital will sort it out, theyll pass him on to the right people, maybe even treat him! Lets just walk away and carry on as we always did! We can even try for another baby, pleaded Michael to his wife as they sat together on a bench in the entrance of St. Marys Maternity in Manchester.
How could we leave him, Michael? Hes ours, our own flesh and blood! So what if he has that, what is it calledDowns syndrome? Hes so sweet! Youll see, the moment you look at him, youll know we cant abandon him here! Im already feeding him, and I can tell he understands everything! sobbed Catherine, her tears streaming at her husbands words.
Cathy, just think about the shame! How can I take him back home to the village to see my parents? How am I supposed to walk down the lane with himlooking like that? Youve seen kids like thatthey all look the same, you cant tell them apart! And theres no cure, just a lifetime of misery, Michael said, hanging his head and rubbing away a tear that escaped. He had wanted a son so much, had longed for this child.
Catherine wept too, but refused to accept Michaels reasoning. Alone in their flat while Catherine was in hospital, Michael thought back bitterly to how much he loved his Cathyhow everything used to be passionate and bright between them, how for three years before this he never looked at another woman, nor wanted to. Still didnt, really.
Theyd both worked on the same construction sitehe a supervisor, she a painter and decorator. Thats where they met. Their whole work crew came to their wedding, and after a year the site manager handed them keys to a brand-new council flat. They had looked forward to their baby together, full of hope. Everything between them had always been warm and gooduntil this. What will he tell the lads at work?
When it was time to bring Catherine and their son home from the hospital, Michaels heart felt weighed down with stones; he didnt even want to take the warm bundle from the nurses arms. Catherine decided not to dwell on it; she hoped hed get used to it, and grow to love his son. She knew how hard it must be for him to accept a child so unwell.
But nothing changed in the months that followed. Michael left for work early, came home to silent evenings, never holding the baby, barely offering Catherine a hand. She waited, holding out hope. Their little boy, Simon, grew calm and surprisingly well-behaved, his whole face lighting up with a smile whether his mother or father entered the room. But Michael, seeing his sons unmistakable features, would glance away, frowning, never responding to those simple, bright smiles.
Michael didnt wait to see if his son would learn to sit, crawl, or stand. A young accounts clerk at the sites office caught his eye, and soon he left for her. When Simon turned one, Michael filed for divorce and set up child support, which, to his credit, he always paid.
If not for her little Simon, whom she now lived and breathed for, Catherine would never have survived the pain of being left. But what could she say? Her Michael had turned out weaker than shed thought, and she had to face that.
While Simon was growing up, society began slowly to change its views, even calling such children sunny. Catherine agreed, bathing in the love and warmth Simon gave her. There were times when he struggled to manage his feelings, but the goodwill and joy he brought far outweighed the difficulties.
At last, at the age of five, Simon was admitted to the local nurserynot right away, but they made room for him in the younger childrens group. He eagerly became the right-hand helper to Miss Linda, the nursery assistant, who swore she couldnt lay the tables or tidy up without him. He was quick to run about doing tasks from the teacher, too, always with a grin. The children in the class doted on him, and most parents cheered Catherine on, seeing her determination to help her son grow through being with others his own age.
Catherine loved her boy fiercely and never cared about what people would say or think. After five years away, she returned to work on the building crew, learning in time that Michael now had a post with the Building Services Authority, often seen on construction sites for inspections or spot-checks. He never mentioned Simon and always put on the airs of a strict boss. When Catherine shared her story with the other women, most sided with her and looked down on Michael for turning his back.
YEARS PASSED.
Simon now attended a special needs school, following an adapted programme, but learning all the same. One day, news came for CatherineMichael had slipped and fallen from scaffolding while inspecting a job, damaging his spine badly. Now he lay in hospital, alone, paralysed, and with no one to take care of him. His young accounts-clerk girlfriend had left soon after finding out hed be disabled for life, and they had no children. Michaels parents, once in a small village, had long passed away. He was left with no one.
Catherine didnt hesitate for long. She went to visit him in hospital. By now, he had spent months in a ward, and the doctors were recommending that he go home, needing care.
Home it would be. She decided to bring Michael back to her flat. Simon was old enough to manage many things for himself now, and when she was at work, he wouldnt be alonehis father, though bedbound, could keep him company.
Simon, when told that his father would be moving in, beamed with joy, repeating over and over, I love Dad, I cant wait to see Dad!
Soon a special hospital bed was set up in Catherines living room, and Michael was moved from the ward. On his first day, he lay with his face turned to the wall, not meeting Catherines or Simons gaze. But Simon just sat next to him, gently stroking his hand, his hair, never moving away.
Later, Michael broke down in sobs, pulling Simons hand to his lips, trying to kiss it through wracking tears.
Daddy, does it hurt? Where does it hurt, Daddy? the boy asked, patting his fathers head, Daddy, I can do a massage, I know how! Dont cry! Mum and I will help!
My heart hurts, son, Michael said at last, his voice strangled and raw from weeping.
Meanwhile, Catherine sat quietly in the kitchen, tears falling silently down her face.
