Crosby has written a remarkably honest and perceptive account of the 24 years of her life she spent loving, nurturing, and fighting for her mentally retarded son, Matthew. Anne and her husband, Theo, bring Matthew home from the maternity ward in 1964. He is obviously mongoloid, though they simply don't talk about it as Theo devotes more time to their older daughter, Dido, and Anne plans the best course of action for their son. First, she sends him to the hospital recently opened by Dr. Langdon Down, who gave his name to Down syndrome. Six months later, encouraged by an empathetic child psychologist to become an activist for her son, she removes him from that institution, where more than 60 percent of the patients are labeled "irretrievably incapacitated," toys are considered unnecessary, and the staff eschews affection. Anne next entrusts Matthew to a group home, where he is happy, though she feels like an interloper on visiting days. In Matthew's final weeks, Crosby, whose marriage and self-esteem have suffered, at least knows that Matthew was always cognizant of her love.
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