“The doctors says he’s a mongol.”

I vividly recall the words of my dad in the hall of our house that day in Lincoln in 1960, the shock, although I hardly understood the term.

“They could be wrong, couldn’t they?”

I hadn’t the heart to say what I felt – it was unlikely they were wrong, and they weren’t.

So Nicky grew up with what soon became known as Down’s Syndrome, a fairly common chromosome deficiency.

I soon went to university and Nicky grew up and lived most of his adult years with mum and dad. I have the impression he was not very advanced compared to some with Down’s, who have quite a reasonable IQ. He was always academically very limited , with limited language. But he had a big heart, and the whole family grew to love him – he was an important part of us.

I say ‘was’ because he died yesterday, soon after we all enjoyed his 56th birthday – apparently a fairly typical life span. Not unexpected as he’d developed Alzheimer’s.

He gave us all a lot… playing ball, walking, games, a great love of music, dance, slapstick comedy… Always first on and last off the disco floor! And wasn’t it hilarious when something went wrong!

We’ll miss you, Nicky.

One thought on “Nicky

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