It’s my youngest daughter’s birthday tomorrow. She turns 15. She is a teenager with special needs (autism), and has struggled this whole week leading up to her birthday.
To manage her autism, we try and keep her life very regimented and in routine. At one level, Lockdown has been easy for her, because she is actually better if every day is the same as the last one was. But even she understands that birthdays are supposed to be special and different, and she knows enough about Lockdown to know this birthday is not going to be.
Fridays are normally pizza night for us, and this is Rebecca’s most special meal of the week. So we combined it with an early birthday party with cake and candles. She enjoyed it and smiled for the photo, but I can see how sad Rebecca is that this year her birthday is not the special event it might have been.
We’re all missing what might have been this year. And it’s OK to be sad about it. We’re making the most of it, but it’s not what it could have been, and that’s sad.
