
Listen To Me: How My Down syndrom Brother Saved My Life
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Listen To Me: How My Down syndrom Brother Saved My Life
One of my favorite conversations between mother and son was on our second visit at the hospital, cup of coffee in one hand, sitting on the bed, leg crossed, with his other hand on mom’s leg. “So, mom, what happened to dad?” “Bruce” I interject, “We have talked about this.” Dad having just passed and Bruce knowing he was sick, David insisting upon telling his, could not grasp the concept of death and dad no longer physically here. Hence the question what happened to dad. Instinctively he knew if dad wasn’t with mom something must be wrong. He and I talked about death, bugs die, plants die, people go to heaven. And as Bruce called my parents faithfully, heard my father’s voice on the phone when asked to leave a message. Of course, he was confused. Or so I thought. Bruce gave me such a loo, if I hadn’t recognized it as one of my own, I would have dug a hole to hide instead of laughing with style="margin-left:0in;">
“Mom, listen to me. Dad, he was your husband, right?” “Yes, Bruce he was my husband.” “And you loved him very, much right?” Yes, I loved him very much.” “Why don’t you tell me about him, you’ll feel better.” I found this so endearing my eyes filled with tears. Such pure simplicity of thought and feeling. This man with the mind of a child, really and a heart of gold trying to make his mother feel better about dad while in the style="margin-left:0in;">