It’s Carers’ Week!

This week (June 8th-14th) is Carers’ Week in the UK. The link has some information that some of you might find interesting. As my way of celebrating carers this week, I’d like to share this original poem with you. This is dedicated to all of those very special mothers who care for special children:

Special Mothers

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children are climbing frames

Their kids get called cruel names

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children are playing games

Their kids watch from standing frames

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children are climbing stairs

Their kids watch from moving chairs

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children go to school

Their kids are told they’re too uncool

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most girls are wearing high heels

Their daughters are watching from seats on four wheels

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most boys are kicking footballs

Their sons are watching through gaps in brick walls

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

But the thing about these special mothers

That really makes them like no others

Is that while most parents listen for a lie

These mothers are watching… their children die

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still, they have to see all this.