On the flight back, Phil and his wife were sitting over there and Wendy was here. She sat by the window, turning her back so that her seat mate would not see her tears.
She recalled those days when she had tried to take care of Ginny. Recalled trying so hard to be helpful and always failing.
If only she had gotten help from an expert. If only Ginny had been sent to a home, as the one she was in now, where people knew how to manage Down’s Syndrome, instead of…
Wendy had thought she was helping but she wasn’t.
Seeing Ginny at that home, so full of life, speaking so much better, Wendy felt stupid. Stupid for thinking she could manage, stupid for doing the wrong things.
If Elsa could see Ginny now, she would have to feel guilt. Keeping Ginny like a goldfish in a bowl instead of releasing her into the sea.
I really wish I could see what you wrote
Welcome to the invisible comment club!
i like the story but it is very sad