I tweaked this beautiful poem to make it fit our story.
Go ahead and mention my child,
The one with the disorder, you know.
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry.
I'm already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing
The tears that I try to hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent,
Pretending this doesn’t exist.
I'd rather you mention my son,
Knowing what you would have wished.
You asked me how I was doing.
I say "pretty good" or "fine".
But healing is something ongoing
I feel it will take a lifetime.
~ E. Dent ~
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