Never sitting exams

Scrolling through social media, one innocent post from a friend made me instantly stop.

We met through church when our children were both in crèche together and we’ve been staying in touch ever since. I’ve loved seeing her daughter grow from those first nursery photos to starting school and then wearing that smart blazer looking nervous starting high school. Now as our children move on even more I reread her post feeling my eyes well up.

“Thinking of my daughter today as she sits her first exam today.”

I try not to compare my son with other people’s children, but sometimes I just get a glimpse of what could have been and it hits hard.

Right now my teenage son should be sitting exams.

Instead, he’s still watching Peppa Pig, still wanting the same picture story book read to him every night, and still needing help to get washed and dressed.

He has no concept of what an exam even is let alone be able to sit at a desk and do one.

It’s yet another milestone he’ll never reach, another opportunity he’ll never experience.

It’s a stark reminder of how different his adult life will be to his peers.

It’s a right of passage he’ll never have.

So while I have so much I celebrate about my amazing son I know that it’s ok to stop at moments like this and let that pain and loss rest in my heart for just a little while. I’m only human and no matter how positive I am there will always be moments I still wonder ‘what if’.

It will no doubt feel the same on results day, or when my friend’s children start university, or move into their own place, or even get married. After all, these are all life achievements we expect to happen for our children or aspire for them to experience. While I fully appreciate that none of these life events come easy for anyone, for my son they just won’t be achievable independently ever.

Right now, at 16 he still can’t write his own name, or speak, or make himself a snack.

In a year’s time he will finish education with a future that is still unknown and frightening. He won’t be attending interviews, dating, studying or enjoying his first legal drink. He won’t be learning to drive or saving for a house or going on holiday with his mates.

Instead, I’ll continue to support him in the hope that one day he might master writing his own name, or dress himself, or open a yogurt for himself. We might even hear him say a word one day or even brush his own teeth.

There won’t be exams for those but his achievements will be just as valuable to me.

If only society could value those skills as much as they do exam results!