MY NAME IS BAR​

 

Bar is my nephew.  He walks with difficulty.  His speech is garbled.  He frequently repeats himself.  When he is worried, he sucks his hand.  When he is frustrated, he bites it.  

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Yet, Bar is much more than his physical and intellectual challenges.  He loves to laugh.  He tells "knock-knock" jokes.  He likes to spend time with pretty girls.  He hates turnips.  He invites everyone he encounters to join him at the pool for a swim. His memory is astonishing.  He can recall the details of family events that took place when he was a small boy.

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Years ago, Bar might have spent his adult life in a large institution, shut off from the outside world.  Today, he lives in a small group home in Western Massachusetts.  The rhythm of each day revolves around land work and animal husbandry.  Bar contributes by transporting gardening material, compost and soil back and forth in the household wheelbarrow. 

 

By any measure, Bar's life is rich and full.   

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