I just got back from a very pleasant lunch with my parents. We have taken to meeting, every few weeks or so, up in Stratford at the Olympic park. It’s nice to have a walk together and then a bite to eat.

I was struck by a thought earlier though: there was a time that I would have thought such an arrangement was absurd. I have described here before how I once thought that leaving home was something I would never, could never do. I was wedded to the notion of a long, stable family life with my parents, and drew great comfort from the thought I would never leave home. The idea that I would one day live independently in London, miles away from Mum and Dad, would have felt ridiculous and probably have reduced me to tears. For their part too, I daresay my parents once felt similarly: they probably expected me to be permanently tied to them as my primary caregivers, having to feed me, wash me and take me wherever they went. Of course they would have been thrilled if I did become independent of them, but when I was little or in my teens, I don’t think they were certain I ever would be.

Could they have imagined, back then, one day sitting in a cafe outside the olympic Stadium waiting for me, having told me on Facebook when and where to meet them? Naturally, it’s something any parents would do with their grown children; yet they may have once thought such an arrangement with me far fetched. I’d have to have my own house with my own care; hell, before they got me my first powerchair the thought that I would one day move myself about was probably implausible. Yet there I was this morning, meeting them just about on time, showered, shaved and breakfasted – as independent as their other two sons.

I know that, on the whole this isn’t much, just a small reflection on the fact I took myself to have lunch with my parents. Yet I find myself wishing that I could tell the timid boy I was, so afraid of ever leaving home, what was going to happen and how awesome life in the big wide world would be. He did not realise what he was capable of. But at least I know now, and I know enough to tell others not to be so afraid.