Paul
My
Paul
My
gentle giant
Not
my first-born, but
My
first-adopted
Paul
likes to be first.
My
images of Paul –
Meeting
with the doctor at the hospital
He
has developmental delays.
At
three weeks? How delayed can he be?
He’ll
be three weeks behind his peers?
We
can deal with that.
I was
so naive.
His
kitten cry.
His
visit with Evelyn. She says she will take him back.
A weekend
of tears.
Monday
comes. She brings him back to me.
Relief.
He
is ours, I tell Tom. Tom knows.
We
adopt him.
Physical
therapy. Sign language.
Occupational
therapy. For what occupation are we training him for work?
Genetics
clinic. Metabolic clinic.
I learn
so much from Paul.
Prader-Willi
Syndrome.
Locks
on food. Paul is more clever than locks.
Growing.
Growing taller than anybody.
Perseveration.
I didn’t even know what the word meant.
Now,
Paul never lets me forget.
Ever.
Don’t forget. Ever. Don’t forget. Ever. Don’t forget. Ever.
Everywhere
we go, people know Paul.
Puzzles
present no challenge.
More
advanced legoskills than any child I’ve known.
Knows
the weather. Knows the time. Knows the scores.
Knows
how to get to anyplace he has ever been.
Keeps
everybody on schedule.
Always
always always – the hunger.
And
the laughter.
And
the love.
May 3, 2003
