Our story goes back over 13 years to a timid little boy, a little wobbly on his feet, rather uncertain about his first music therapy session.  I remember you Owen, clearly inquisitive, wanting to explore what I had brought, approaching, peering then turning away if I made a move.  Yet the music got you, it mirrored your movements and your beautiful sounds and held you, it understood you, and you loved it.  You looked in the tambourine and heard me sing, you saw mummy there too and you toddled to her.  You and your mummy, inseparable.

How lucky am I Owen? I got to follow you to school, to see you grow in awareness, in confidence and action, to explore and make friends, and together we worked in a number of  groups.  Here you are Owen in the second one, listening, waiting, then leading the music, always on the go, rocking those chimes and playing with your toes.

We worked together in school and online but the very best times were those times at home, mum by your side, always knowing just the right way to support you so we could explore instruments, sounds and those lively rhythms you loved.  When you danced and jumped we danced inside too and the music still got you, met you wherever you were at, even when you didn't feel your best.  You always tried so very hard to stay awake and your cheeky smile would light up my day.