The Windmill Tree is not a guide for professionals about working with families or a qualitative study of family life; it is a mother's account of her two daughters’ very different childhoods. Zöe and Miranda had Boglins and Bugs Bunny toys, watched Pingu and the Big Breakfast, and went to the parks and beaches near their home; yet their lives were not like those of other little girls growing up around them or like their mother had expected.
The girls at different points receive diagnoses that turn family life on its head. Sometimes life doesn’t only throw one thing at you, it throws two; in this case autism and cancer. You won’t find a real family story that is just about learning disability or autism, because real family life has many challenges. The Windmill Tree shares with you the nitty gritty of life, the small and large daily challenges that are often not even shared with close friends let alone professional contacts. If you’ve ever wondered what it's “really like” for a family but weren’t able to find out, the story of this family should give you a good insight. In this book you will read about issues that range from work pressures, the difficult logistics of getting to medical appointments, to terrible Christmas days and issues of religion and faith.
The book also describes moments that you can hear have created lasting and precious memories for the author. We are told about the wonderful things that children do that you just can’t make up. The girls are tough, intuitive, caring and fun-loving in their own ways. Despite the straightforward descriptive style of the author, we really get to know the family and the girls’ personalities bounce off the page throughout the book.
Our window into the world of this Kent family begins in the late 1980s when their first child is born. We hear how the family adjusted to their new addition and baby Zöe developed well and reached milestones “early”, but was prone to sickness, had a lazy eye and had several head injuries, which worried her parents. Younger sister Miranda is born; she was a quiet baby and as time went on many features of autism appeared (the author even lists all the behaviours associated with autism that Miranda displayed). Miranda did things that on their own would seem like amusing incidents but together ring bells for readers familiar with autistic children: putting biscuits down the toilet to watch them float and dissolve, picking up fallen petals in the garden to put back on the flowers, laughing to herself, spinning round and round, only eating green jelly for dessert.
The period leading up to and after Miranda's diagnosis of autism highlights the impact that vague diagnosis and poor information can have. Differences in accessing support in the 1990s are apparent; there were not so many specialist services but what there was the family had quick access to, rather than jumping through the hoops of referrals, assessments and eligibility criteria. The family face lack of awareness from people around them. Those that are accepting stay in their life. The valuable social support and practical help from others is described and it's clear the family would have struggled without that safety net. We also see later how false assurances and false hope from others are unhelpful.
It is interesting to hear about the reactions Miranda had to certain things from a young age, such as fear of noisy children coming round to play, confusion or distress at changes to people's appearance (she screamed when her mum's hair was cut), laughing when children hit her and not noticing when she had cut her finger. The family go on several holidays, with varying success, and as you read you understand the family's conflict between wanting to share new experiences together and the stress caused by the change and upheaval of a trip away from home. The author describes Miranda's behaviour objectively, so we get a useful insight into her screaming, kicking and head-butting, and although it must have taken over the situation at the time, it doesn’t dominate the narrative. Readers interested in communication will be fascinated to read how Miranda's single word speech developed a little, went almost completely and eventually returned to give her more expression and choice later on.
The book moves on to focus on Zöe and the family's second diagnosis is perhaps more confusing and terrifying than the first. The author becomes more reflective and illustrates daily stress and worry as well as poignant moments. We don’t just hear about experiences of having a seriously ill child, but of dealing with it while also looking after a child with autism who doesn’t understand what is happening to her sister. Readers will pick up on the intricacies of human bonds and love for family that are missed when autism is considered in general terms.
This book is absorbing and moving through the reality of the situations it relays and the details that bring them to life, not through overly descriptive or emotive language. It flows well and is quick to read for its length thanks to the simple style of writing. Readers might pick it up with the intention of gaining an insight into learning disability, autism or coping with lifelong or life-limiting conditions; they will get that and quite a bit more, and probably end the book wanting to know what life has been like for the family since the book was written.
