For B.

Last weekend an old coworker and dear friend informed me that one of my former special needs clients, one whom I always held near and dear to my heart passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. I've been thinking of him all week, debating whether or not to write, processing his passing, grieving off and on. I've decided that he deserves to be mentioned, to be remembered. He touched not only my heart, but the hearts of many of us who worked with him, and his death leaves behind a great void.

B. was a little guy, but what he lacked in stature, he made up for in personality. He was deaf, but he signed. It was said that he could read lips, but I have my doubts as to just how well that skill was honed. He had the softest, baby fine spiked hair on the top of his head, and he constantly gave hugs - usually with the ulterior motive of getting a little grope in! He mischievous, but so endearing, that even when he was misbehaving, it was hard to be angry with him.

I have some very fun memories of B. One of the first times I took him with us on a group field trip, he came to me with his wallet, wanting to buy some food out of a vending machine. I took him over to the machine, and he handed me the wallet. Just as I was about to get the money out for him, I realized that it was MY wallet he gave me! He had gotten into my purse and gotten my wallet out to get himself a snack! I looked at him sternly and signed "no." He laughed, shook his head and signed "no" right back at me. I guess he thought he may as well try! Hey, it almost worked!

He always tried to sneak away, and always liked to snoop around in our things. He would wait for a moment when no one was looking and leave the room. Many times he left the program area and someone would call one of us to come get him. Once I just happened to go back to my room during lunch and found him rummaging through my drawers laughing, shaking his head and signing to himself "no, no, no" over and over! Exasperated, I redirected him back to the kitchen. He liked to play pranks on the other clients and tease them like they were his siblings. He would find something that he knew was particularly annoying to someone and do it over and over and over, just like a little brother would do. He would grab onto someone's ears and pull until someone else in the room would yell, "oh! Koelle! B's pulling F's ear's!" Sure enough, there he'd be with a smile ear to ear, pulling F's ears as hard as he could! But like I said, he was just always so sweet, even when he was doing something he shouldn't be doing, you couldn't be mad at him. There was never any malice in B. It was just playful curiosity, just innocence, just love.

Marsha said the last time she saw B, he gave her a hug. This wasn't a typical hug where he tried to rub his face on her chest. There was no ulterior motive. He simply gave her a sincere, heartfelt hug. I mentioned in the beginning that his death was unexpected. I truly believe that sometimes our clients, those who have limited mental capacities, have the capability to see things that we who are fully mentally aware can't see. I believe that B knew that was the last time he was going to see Marsha, and that he wanted to embrace her for the last time. It was his way of thanking her for all of the wonderful things she has done for him. Marsha is one of the most gifted women I know, especially when it comes to her interactions with the clients. She gives more to each and every one of those guys on a single day than many of the staff do in a whole year, and the clients know it. Sincerity cannot be faked.

B gave Marsha a special gift in his hug that day. He gave all of us who were blessed enough to know him a gift we can cherish for the rest of our lives. Rest in peace, my dear friend.