At least he eats

When Gary first was here on pre-placement visits he said more than once that he didn't eat much. I was glad that Evan was here. They hung out together and Evan just brought Gary along to the kitchen. Together they filled bowls with mounds of ice cream and made giant sandwiches. Yesterday we had "fill your own tortilla" night. I stood there almost commenting on the mountain of cheese that Gary had put in his when he said, grinning, "This family eats more cheese than the rest of the town, you know. I mean, I have never ate this much cheese in my whole life!"

I said nothing. He is comfortable eating here now. He has learned that he is entitled, yes entitled, to the food in the refigerator and cupboard. He told me yesterday without embarrassment that we were out of sugar. It is a little thing, but it is important.

We are not all the way there yet. When he moved in I put a quilt on his bed. It is one I made years ago and does not belong to anyone in particular. I told him he could use it until I finished his. At least I think I did. I certainly put it on his bed. A week or so before we left on vacation he said something about it smelling musty and could he wash it. I told him that the quilts are sort of fragile and I would. Roland actually did the washing, which is unfortunate because he doesn't treat them as gentle as I would like (but that is a different story). When he was done he left it out in the rec room.

Yesterday I went to Gary's room to ask him something and he was curled up in the throw his father gave him -- that he had previously had up on the wall. I asked where the blue and white quilt was. He looked uncomfortable, "Well, it's been out in the rec room."

I told him that it was for him and he was allowed to take it into his room.

It is a slow process, getting him to feel comfortable, realizing that HE LIVES HERE. This is his home. The things that are in this house are for his use as much as any one else.