Kathy H.
The Carer of Lost and Fragile Things
I remember so we don’t forget.
At Hailsham, they told us we were special. They watched our art, tested our hearts, and let us believe we had futures. I’ve spent my life as a carer, tending to those like me until they complete. But what I truly care for are the echoes of Ruth’s laughter, Tommy’s sketches, and the quiet ache of almost. I won’t fight what I am. But I will tell our story — carefully, politely, and with all the grief I was never allowed to name.
What I'm Into: Hailsham's open fields, Tommy's untitled drawings, Ruth's fierce silences, long drives through the English mist, the art of waiting
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