Tim's Christmas Party

We hadn't come to take him out for a ride, but he wasn't about to take no for an answer, so off we went for a ride around the block before finding a spot at the table in the dining area. He is all about routines. Well routines and food. Mostly food. Especially if that food is cookies.

The past two Christmases have come and gone with no family invitation to a Christmas Party, but the Cobblestone House always has one. It's where Tim lived for many years before his non-ambulatory status took him to the single level residence across the street. It's wonderful to see him back "home" in the Cobblestone again, and with people who know and love him.

It was a good visit. He scarfed down his chili and snacks (They have him count to ten to slow him down a little...), stole the snacks off Rachel's plate, and ate my cookie. He ate every cookie he could get his hands on. All he could think about was cookies.

And then there was the gift Rachel had put together and wrapped. She held it up to talk with him about it. "What does this say?" she asked him. It was a test because although we "know" he can read, we're always looking for a little more assurance. "Thankful for you!" he replied in his hurried, monotone voice and we smiled, knowing all over again there is more going on inside of this brother than we can typically see on the outside.

Before leaving we had a staff member take our picture. He wrapped his arms around us but couldn't get his eyes and concentration off the snacks in the kitchen. "Give me cookie, please!" he begged, as if he hadn't already consumed half a dozen. Ha ha!

I told him we were ready to go but would be back to take him out for a ride on Sunday. He gave us a hug and literally showed us the door. I mean he dragged us over there and then watched us go through the window.