My favourite books have words that fall off the pages and bury themselves deep into my soul. They have a zen, a flow, a style that feel like poetry. They sing. They are mesmerising and enthralling. This is one of those books.
It follows Kim’s journey from childhood, to her husbands diagnosis of, and eventual death from, ALS. She discusses getting her autism diagnosis along the way. Some of her traits are so like mine, I cried tears of recognition. Her selective mutism, her moments of ticker tape synaestesia, her inability to drive, the sensory similarities. Some were very different. I really enjoy reading both the similarities and the differences. Each memoir I read written by an autistic feels like meeting a long lost cousin.
I cannot praise this book enough. One of those ones that will haunt me with its beauty. Makes me so happy to have read it.