Minnie’s Musings

I Swear is a blub fest par excellence. Bucketed through the family tensions, the isolation, the abuse, the lack of understanding, the redemption through a handful of people showing both compassion and a capacity to look beyond the surface.

At one point (probably when a family meal is disrupted by an explosion of tics) my hand slid into that of Best Beloved and stayed there for the duration. I suppose it is because there are some experiences which are universal to families of the severely neurodivergent .

I have a strong memory of the original documentary on Tourette Syndrome and discussing the condition with my parents. Therefore when walking down Finchley High Road with a friend almost 30 years ago, and a lady with Tourette’s shouting “Dirty English slut” at my friend (who being Scottish shouted “I’m not English” right back), I recognised the condition.

I have an even stronger memory of we mums of His Nibs classmates congratulating one of our number when her son made it all the way through the Christmas show without telling the audience to f-off.

Anyway , we were with our youngest whose passage through life was profoundly affected by the antics of her brother. Her observation was “I didn’t even hate the mother. I’ve been there. I get it.”

And with that, almost without pause, we morphed from wiping tears and thoughtful quiet into laughing about compulsions, such as meticulously wiping rainwater off railings and bollards, wherever we go. Not quite the same as kissing lamp posts, but hey.

So, take a packet of Kleenex with you, and enjoy. Its worthiness towards the end is actually a paean to the power of education to engender understanding. And make life just that little bit easier for people and families whose lives are on a different path.