'He is Happy' by Elisa Hill

I stared at him. I could not process what the psychologist was saying.
"Your son is of very low IQ. The bottom ten percent of the population."
He might have been speaking Greek. Nothing was registering. His words seemed to be floating in a cloud above his head.
"He has a leaning difficulty. We don't know what. We can’t diagnose it. There is no recognisable disorder."
I was on my own, his father had not been able to make it. I felt intense hatred of this man. ‘How can he say these things?’ I don't know how but I walked out of that room and travelled to pick up the kids from my friends house.
"What did they say? "she asked.
" A learning difficulty, whatever that means,’ I mumbled.
She does not press me; the look of devastation shocks her, and she can't find any words to comfort me.
That first week...just many selfish thoughts. ‘How could I have a child less than ‘normal’?" A blur; talking at him. Trying to get him to respond. A barrage of words. No response. The poor child just wants to be left alone in his own little world. I want to make that man a liar.
A second wave of pain hits when I think of his future. That he will never have a "normal" life. Never marry, have children, a lost future.

Ten years later and the social worker is asking a series of questions, something he seems to do every few years, "How do you feel about being a carer?"
"Well you don't just sign on for 18 years when you have a child,” I answered.
"You could have your life back."
I think about the implications of his words. "No, never!" I reply with disproportional anger.
"What about when you can't look after him anymore?" I try not to cry, and he pretends not to notice.
Most parents my age are suffering ‘empty nest syndrome’; but I will never have an empty nest; never be alone. Now my life is ordered by his needs and I am so used to doing this, I do not resent it. It is my life. Sometimes he surprises me with his reactions to things. Often he understands more than I thought was possible.
My daughter once joked, “As soon as you die, he’s going straight in a home" She has no idea how painful her words were. They cut like a knife.
Now I hear him singing in the next room – He is happy!