When Isla started nursery school, I stuck around for a while on her first day. She held my hand for a beat longer than usual, looked at me, and then went to play. From my wheelchair in the corner, I watched her play and tried not to mess with her moment. That day, she did things that made sense to people who were three. Playing alone together with other kids. After a while, a boy not unkindly asks my daughter,…
