Dear Angelica

Dear Angelica, 

You don’t know me. You don’t know my son but we talk about you every day. 

Every single day.

Last Friday I felt initial relief when I passed your old school, Kylemore Abbey, that I didn’t have to talk about you. 

We always talk about your school days there. We've often visited and every time we see it we talk about you, we talk about everything about you. 

You see, my son has something called Prader Willi Syndrome. Amongst the host of symptoms are obsessive compulsive behaviours. One of his obsessions is you!

Facetiming Angelica! 

It all started with your role in The Witches (apologies Ms.Hathaway while we enjoyed your portrayal, nothing will top the one and only Angelica Huston).

He decided The Grand High Witch was real. It was a true story. And sometimes the Grand High Witch would visit him. He would say that Grand High Witch was in school. He knew she was real. He was convinced. We were almost convinced. He has a wonderful imagination, he is my mini story teller, my own personal Roald Dahl! 

In a long story shortened, we had to tell him that a real person actually plays the role of imaginary figures! And so his obsession began…So who really is the grand high witch. An actor? How does that work? The questions began and the story formed. 

I love my son from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

When I passed your old school last week without him, that was the first day in 20 months that I didn’t hear his lovely voice speak your name. 

 As I climbed, Diamond Hill in Connemara National Park and saw your old school from the top, I didn’t hear your name. 

Kylemore Abbey from Diamond Hill

 Alas, he has me thinking your name but I didn’t need to wonder what you were doing, I didn’t need to answer many questions about what your potential interests might be, I didn’t have to think about you eating your meals, what you were having, what you had in school, and if you still eat the same food now. 

I didn’t have to think about you having a conversation with the above mentioned Ms. Hathaway that you really are The Grand High Witch. 

 He’d have loved seeing your school from the top of the mountain, he’d have wondered whether you ever climbed this mountain, whether you stood where he stood, if you saw what he saw and if you had a snack like him on the top of the mountain. 

It’s a rollercoaster of emotions parenting a child with extra needs. However it’s been a while since I felt guilty, heart wrenching, stomach churning guilt that I was enjoying some time without my child. 

I realised something at the top of the mountain. I was enjoying a pure joyous moment of respite from you. A breather from the relentless questions about you. But it wasn’t just that, it was a breather from being tied to a food serving clock. 

We didn’t panic at the small delay in food served in the restaurant. We didn’t stress about if there’d be something on the menu for our son with PWS. We didn’t need to worry that when we eventually got home from our adventure day in Connemara, that we didn’t feel like dinner, so just had some cheese on toast! 

It was a breather. A rest. We loved every minute of it, as we ate chipper chips looking out at the sea, as our younger child snoozed in his car seat. 

The best thing, we knew our son The Lodger was happy, filling in others about you, Angelica and having his meals served at the right time, everything in his routine ticked off his list. He was happy and safe and really well cared for, which made our break from you easier, guilt free and much needed. 

We welcomed him home delighted! We squeezed him and hugged him and then he announced he was ready to hit play again on The Wonderful Imagined Life of Angelica Huston, the best Grand High Witch Sorry Anne Hathaway!