Retard

My bro’ has Down Syndrome. He’s 2 years older and lives with me. I can see him from where I’m sitting.

With reference to the morbidity rate for people born with the disability, he’s ancient. I know him only as ‘my bro’, but growing up I sometimes had to correct people who affectionately referred to him with a variety of names;

wanker, tard, retard, prick, paki, mong, mongoloid, spastic, idiot, cunt, penguin* (*presumably because of the way he walks)

Years ago, as a boy, I’d shout at people; “he’s my bro!”. Sometimes they’d tell me to ‘fuck off’ and sometimes I’d dust my bum off after being pushed down.

My bro’ is pretty grumpy these days. He has a short fuse and a fading memory. His ability to talk has declined and his words are little more than vocal groans.

A doctor affectionately described him as ‘senile’ a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t correct the doctor though. I didn’t find myself saying “no, he’s my bro”.

Sometimes you fight. Sometimes you don’t.

Gung Fu.