Goodnight Bear

We arrived home from an event in our condo's community room. Gregory was emptying his pockets into what we call our "Pocket Table," a cabinet with drawers kept by the front door, when he ran into trouble. 


We each have our own drawer for "pocket stuff" including our wallet, keys, cell phone, Chapstick, the charging attachment for our phones, etc.


This fairly well thought out system has helped Gregory (and me) keep ourselves organized and able to find what we need to have on our person when leaving and returning to the condo.


Gregory called me in, standing in front of his open drawer and almost in a panic, he pointed and said, "Something is wrong here." The space where his wallet "lives" was empty. I am not sure if he knew that his wallet was missing or just that there was an empty space.


Used to this by now, I didn't get upset yet but said, "Why don't you check the shorts you had on earlier." He lit up and headed to the closet with me close behind. He proceeded to check through his shoes on the floor. 


"No," I said, "not shoes … shorts." He looked confused but started to search the shoes on the shelf this time. "Shorts," I said, "Pants." Frustrated he began looking on the clothes poles but in the area in which his shirts hang. "Not shirts … shorts." 


He finally figured out what he needed to do, getting a little more agitated each time but keeping his emotions under control. I am sure you can see by now that - shorts, shoes, shirts, shelves - sound alike and could be confusing.


I probably could have been more helpful or clearer in my directions but once the proverbial snowball gets rolling, it is hard to stop it. "Shorts not shoes not shirts but shorts." At least he finally figured out what he needed to do. But as you will soon see, once he starts to get confused it becomes more difficult with the next activities. 


He found the shorts he had worn earlier in the day, took them off the pole, hanger and all. He felt around the shorts and lit up again because he felt his wallet in the pocket. But because the shorts were still clipped to the hanger, he couldn't figure out how to get the wallet out of the pocket. 


He rummaged around inside the shorts and found the outside material of the pocket. He didn't think to go into the pocket so he continued to feel around the outside of the pocket being amazed that he could not figure out how to retrieve his wallet. He finally pushed the wallet up through the pocket, ice cream push-up style until it fell out of the pocket and onto the floor. He was relieved. 


He was feeling better by now but I was devastated (which feels very much like anger.) As he got ready for bed, I sat in the living room feeling sad and numb. I didn't allow myself to get too upset or cry because I did not want to make him feel worse then he already did. When he was finished getting ready for bed I followed.


After reading for a while it was time to turn off the lights. The lights on my side of the room were off but my sadness was still on. Gregory was beginning to turn his lights off. He has two switches on the back of his night table. One turns off the table lamp and the other turns off the "up lights" on the bookcases under the windows. He likes to turn off the table lamp and then enjoy the items on the top of the bookcases: green pottery, framed art pieces, plants, a few piles of books, and our Teddy Bear Sebastian sitting on top of one of the piles of books. 


Just before he turned off the last of the lights, he waved goodnight to the Teddy Bear. That simple action softened and settled my emotions and filled me with love. The sadness dissipated. I slept well.