siblings

I have, of late, come upon the opinion that the siblings of disabled people are, quite often, remarkable people. Take, for example, my brother Luke: mum and dad were both away this weekend, so he was home to ‘look after’ me. Not only did he do this remarkably – even bathing and shaving me last night – but he spent the entire weekend reading Harry Potter and the Half Blood prince to me. All 30-odd chapters, aloud! Incredible. I suspect he wanted to read it too, but that’s besides the point.

My point is that he could have scarppered to his room and ignored me, but he didn’t. last weekend, I was struck y the fact that none of the siblings of disabled young people were staring at me. Upon reflection, this isn’t surprising – presumably, they had been around disabled people all or most of their lives, so they were ‘used to’ us crips. Incidentally, this is yet another argument for inclusive education.

I am, of course, making gross generalisations here, but I have found that the brothers and sisters of disabled people are, by and large, good people. Presumably, they would have seen much of the privations of their disabled siblings, for example, beings told ‘we can’t go here because we can’t get little X’s chair in.

The bottom line is, I don’t tell mark or Luke I appreciate them as much as I should. I love you, bros.

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