PERSONAL NARRATIVE
Reflections on Autism and
Brotherly Love
By Tony RYMER
I
’m the brother of 54-year-old Colin (or Codge, as
he’s been known since a kid). He lived with my
Mam, Marion Rose, from the day he was born in
her bedroom until the day she sadly died a few
years ago at the age of 81 in the same house in
Leeds.
My mother cared for Colin (solo, since my dad died
21 years ago) and only went into care for short peri-
ods of respite as she got older. Codge was always bit
of a handful, profoundly autistic, and a bit of a free
spirit (“wild” as a kid, we used to say) who liked to do
things his own way. Mam got on with it “head down
and battle through,” like a lot of working class ladies
had to do in those days.
Help gradually got better—attitudes changed as
more people realized it was not a “handicap” to be
born different and, with help, those born different
could live fulfilling lives.
But Mam was always too proud to ask for too much
help, brought up in an age when “charity” was dis-
trusted and looking after your own was the thing you
had to do. “I’ll look after him while I drop,” she used to
say, and she did, like the old warhorse she was.
Colin is now living in sheltered housing in Leeds, or
independent living, as they say. He seems happy and
we are keeping our promise to Mam to make sure he
gets the things he wants and needs.
I’ve written a poem based on the story Mam told
me years ago about how the consultant diagnosed
Codge as autistic in 1966. She said autism was
blamed on the mother, or so it seemed in those days.
The poem highlights the change in attitude toward
people with autism since his diagnosis more than 50
years ago.
His Shield
‘You’ve always known he w
as retarded,’
Mr. B said, sarcastic Mam re
members.
Walked home in the rain cr
ying,
brother Codge was three.
Next appointment Dad wen
t too,
a day off work, no pay.
Mr. B was all charm,
but no help at all.
‘One in ten thousand,’
Doctor Watson told Mam.
Local practitioner, with deta
ched sympathy,
‘It’s not going to be easy.’
It wasn’t, it isn’t.
Five, fifteen, fifty years,
she fought, she struggled,
protecting against the wor
ld.
She’s still there,
Getting angry, giving love,
Protecting with her power,
But she’s feeling old.
Tony Rymer, 57, is a print technical manager born
and living in Leeds, West Yorkshire, UK. He is hap-
pily married to Julie with a 23-year-old daughter
and twin 22-year-old stepsons. He wrote this poem
about his brother, Colin, who has autism.
Autism Parenting Magazine | Issue 65 |
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