Sam's Poem

As I was starting to do Sam's laundry yesterday morning, I noticed a piece of paper in one of her shirt pockets. Sam is always tucking things away in her pockets, which I have always found to be a rather sweet habit. I took the paper out and on it was a printed poem. I asked Sam if she had written it, and "yes" was her answer. After reading it I knew Sam had written it, as it was definitely her language. I asked Sam's permission to reproduce her poem on this blog and she happily approved, so here it is:

Good Words

Start writing
good words.
Stop thinking
brevity.
Gold tarnishes
our berry beer.
Strawberry icecream
spills on our feet.
I think about a lot of things
in the dungeon.
Statistics don't fall away.
Gingerbread houses shelter us.
Should we pile the words?


Sam always used to write poetry and so I was thrilled to find this treasure in her pocket. I hope that she can continue to write more poems. I assume that she did this poem in her speech class and that the therapist helped her to print it out. I'll try and find out more about it this week.

Also, Sam and I had a lovely weekend together and with friends/colleagues. Many people came by on Saturday and Sunday and Sam seemed quite pleased and happy. She also had her first slice of Pizza on Saturday and she had the best smile on her face while eating it. I took a photo of her eating the pizza and when I can figure out how to download it to this blog, I will do so... it is a great picture. Later this evening, when I took Sam back to Park Terrace she refused to get out of the car. She said she did not want to go back there and that the place was terrible. I needed to talk with her for awhile and try to convince her otherwise. It was very hard for me to do so, since it is hard for me to go "back" to Park Terrace as well. Every time I visit, I need to take a deep breath before walking in, and then afterwards it is okay. Sam said she was mad at me for taking her back, but fortunately by the time we got upstairs, and Sam had greeted lots of people, she was no longer mad. It was certainly tough to leave her there tonight as it is each evening when I leave Park Terrace.