Date: Thu, 21 Jan 2010 13:06:57 EST
From: bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 4, chapters 13 - 14

Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 13 -- The Prognosis.

**Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read
this.

Pat was handling the situation quite well and trying very hard to do things
for himself, although there were occasions when he did require some
assistance.  The first few nights he woke me every time he needed to use
the toilet and I would lead him over, line him up with the bowl or help him
find the seat, since that was easier for him.  After he finished, I would
lead him back to bed and help him get in.

Over time, things changed though.  Eventually, Pat decided he could count
the number of steps between the two rooms and then find his way there on
his own.  He would also use his hands to feel his way around, so he could
be more independent.  About the only thing I was required to do for him now
was to put the salve on his face and bandaging his head.  He did eventually
inform me he was trying his best to function on his own, just in case he
did have permanent damage, and I was encouraged by his practical approach
to his situation.  Finally, the time came for the first of his two
appointments and I drove him to see the doctor who had treated him in the
emergency room.

When we arrived at the doctor's office, we continued to use the same
procedure we had been following for Pat to get around.  He placed his hand
on my arm and followed my lead, while I informed him about anything out of
the ordinary, which might give him difficulty.  We did get more than a few
stares as we walked along and I was glad Pat couldn't actually see what was
going on around us.  Once we entered the office, we sat in the waiting room
for another fifteen minutes, while I tried to keep Pat engaged in
conversation, so he couldn't dwell on his situation or worry about the
outcome of this visit.  Eventually, one of the nurses paged us and led us
back to one of the examination rooms.  I helped Pat sit on the examination
table, while I took a seat in the chair.  It was about ten more minutes
before the doctor also arrived.

He entered still glancing at Pat chart, but stopped long enough to say
hello and ask Pat how he'd been doing and feeling.  Pat told him that he'd
been doing fine and hadn't had a lot of pain or discomfort.  The doctor
then asked me how he was handling everything and I told him that Pat had
been a real trooper and was handling everything very well.  The doctor
congratulated him for not letting this get him down and then began to cut
off this latest set of bandages I'd applied.  He examined Pat's face
thoroughly, carefully inspecting all of the areas affected by the
chemicals, and then he turned to speak with both of us.

"The skin tissue is coming along nicely, but there will be some scarring on
his face, especially around his eyes.  We may be able to correct some of it
with plastic surgery later, but that will be entirely up to the two of you.
I'm not qualified to tell you about his eyes, but you should be getting
that information from his ophthalmologist, when you go to that appointment.
Do either of you have any questions you'd like to ask me?"

I let Pat go first and he asked the doctor to point out on his face how
much area he was talking about.  Pat explained he couldn't really tell from
my caring for him, because I spread the cream on surrounding areas too.
Agreeably, the doctor used his finger to trace around the damaged locations
and Pat was somewhat relieved when he discovered it was a smaller area than
he'd suspected.

After that, Pat asked the doctor how the damaged skin could be repaired and
how long it would take.  The doctor answered him very honestly, gave him
the information he wanted, and even anticipated a couple of future
questions and answered them too.  I could tell Pat was absorbing all of
this information and envisioning the process in his mind, while deciding
whether he wanted to go through what was being described, sometime in the
future.

Most of what I had wanted to know had already been asked and answered, so I
merely pursued a few details concerning the proposed treatment, such as how
much recovery time would be needed after the procedure, possible
side-effects and if there were any time restrictions on when we had to
decide whether or not to have it done.  Once we had all of our answers, the
doctor bandaged Pat's head once more and we headed home.

We were both fairly quiet on the drive back, as each of us were digesting
the information we had been given and considering the ramifications of
following the proposed course of treatment.  I know Pat was considering it
from the point of view of how he would look and if he would still be
attractive to the girls.  However, I was looking at it from the perspective
of whether it would improve the quality of his life, in both work and
social environments, and whether it would change his perception about
himself and how he might approach his future.  Before I knew it, I was
pulling into our driveway.  We'd made the trip back home without either of
us realizing it.

Once we got inside, I decided it might be the appropriate time to put our
cards on the table.  "Pat, I know you've been thinking about what the
doctor suggested, but have you made a decision yet?"

"I think I'd like to have it done, Dad, especially if I get my eyesight
back," he explained.  "I don't want people looking at me and thinking I'm
some kind of freak or monster."

"I can understand that," I agreed, "but the doctor admitted there will
still be some scarring."

"I know, but as long as we can keep it to as little as possible," he
informed me.  "I know it's not going to be easy either way, but I think I
can handle it better if it's not too obvious.  I just wonder how the girls
are going to react to me now."

"Pat, those who would let something like this effect their judgment of you
probably aren't worth the effort anyway," I explained.  "Those who are
worth it will be able to look past those small imperfections and see the
great guy underneath.  I don't think you'll have to worry about it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, with the concerned obvious in his tone.  "I'm
almost afraid to go back to school, because I don't want anyone to see me
like this."

"Well, you won't be going for a while anyway, so it's nothing to get too
upset about just yet," I offered.  "I can also arrange for tutors to come
to the house so you can keep up with your classmates, that is until you're
ready to cope with attending school again."

"Can you get tutors I don't already know?" he inquired.  "I don't want
anyone who knows me to see me yet."

"Well, I think you're being overly sensitive about this," I suggested,
"but, yes, I can arrange it, if it's what you truly want."

"I do, Dad, and I'll love you even more if you can do this for me," he
confirmed.

"Oh, a bribe, huh?" I teased.  "Well, it isn't necessary and I'll do it for
you anyway.  I'll set it up to begin sometime next week, depending on how
soon I can find people who are qualified."

Hearing that, Pat asked me to move closer, which I did, and once I was by
his side, he reached out and gave me an energetic hug.  I thanked him,
hugged him back and then I went out to fix us both a bite to eat.

Later that afternoon, once the others returned home, they wanted to know
what Pat found out, so I let him field all of their questions.  His
brothers urged him to have that plastic surgery done, after also reassuring
him it didn't look bad as it was.  They just offered it would make it look
even better, which they assumed was what he wanted.  He listened to
everything they had to offer and told them he'd consider their input when
the time came.

When they asked about his eyes, he explained he had an appointment with the
ophthalmologist tomorrow, so we'd find out more about that situation then.
The boys were all very good telling Pat about everyone who had asked about
him and they had even gone to his classes and got his class work for him.
Without my urging, the boys had decided to help him with his assignments,
with each volunteering to assist him in their best subject.  They would
read the texts to him and explain the lessons he had missed, while trying
to utilize Pat's other senses to make up for his lack of sight.  The
hardest subject to do this with was math, as it's hard to visualize
formulas and problems you can't see.

Later that evening, about an hour after dinner, the doorbell rang.  This
surprised me, because as far as I knew we weren't expecting any visitors.
After thinking about it briefly, we assumed it might be one of Pat's
friends, a teacher or someone else from school.  Nick happened to be
nearest the door at the time, so he answered it, and I heard him talking to
someone, but couldn't make out whom it was or what the person was saying.
It was only a short time later before Nick invited the person in and led
him in.

The visitor was a young man and was following closely behind Nick, but I
could tell he was more than a little nervous about being here.  He did
manage to walk up in front of where Pat was seated, while Nick announced
his name.  That's when I learned our guest was the boy who was responsible
for the accident in the chemistry lab.

"Man, I'm really sorry for what happened," he told Pat.  "It was all my
fault, cuz I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing.  I was in too big
a hurry and I'm really sorry you got hurt because of it.  I hope you're
gonna be all right."

"I'm not sure about that yet," Pat told him, "but I know it was an accident
and you didn't do it on purpose.  I just wish you'd realized beforehand
that there are just some places you can't rush or let your mind wander."
The boy seemed hurt by Pat's comment, but didn't argue the point.  I think
he knew Pat's analysis was correct.

Pat must have also realized how harsh his words might have sounded, because
he softened his tone a little when he continued.  "Of course, maybe I
shouldn't have taken my safety glasses off before I put everything else
away either.  If I'd still had them on, I don't think anything serious
would have happened to me."

"Maybe, but I'm really sorry dude," the boy replied.  "I know it doesn't
mean much now, but I am really sorry.  I've felt awful about this since it
happened, especially when I found out it had burned your face and eyes like
that."

"The doctor said I will have some scars on my face, even with plastic
surgery, but we won't know about my eyes until tomorrow," Pat explained.

"I hope you get good news then," the boy offered.  "I really feel terrible
man, and I hope you can forgive me."

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, so I don't hate you," Pat offered, "and
I'll forgive you on one condition."

"What's that?" the boy asked, looking even more nervous.

"It's like my dad always says," Pat began, "it's okay as long as you've
learned from your mistake."  I grinned when he said that, but I also heard
snickering from some of the other boys.  However, the boy seemed to take
Pat's comment in stride and shook his head in agreement.  "I did dude, cuz
I don't want to feel this bad again," he finally replied.  "Can I do
anything to help or to make up for this?"

"Well, maybe you can help me with future labs and explain what I can't
see," Pat suggested.

"I will, but I hope you will be able to see again," he replied, "and then
we can just be lab partners or something.  I am really sorry about this."

"I know and you don't have to keep saying that.  You're forgiven," Pat
reiterated.  "Who knows, it could have been me who did it to someone else,
instead of you.  I'll be fine and my dad will take care of everything."
The last comment really hit me hard.  I appreciated Pat's confidence in me,
but I hoped he realized there is only so much I can do.  I think he'd be
better off putting his faith in God, but I'll assist him as much as I can.
I just pray I don't end up disappointing him, if I only take care of the
things I can control.

The boys were all very good with Pat, especially Dustin, his former rival
in love.  I think he still had some tinges of guilt over that altercation
and tried to make up for it now.  He offered to help Pat to his room and
told him that he'd assist him during the night too, but Pat said he wasn't
ready to cope with the stairs just yet.  He told Dustin he'd spend another
night or two with me, but thanked Dustin for his offer and advised him he
might take him up on it soon.  Dustin merely grinned and replied that would
be fine, anytime he was ready.

When Friday rolled around, Pat and I got ready to go to his appointment
with the eye doctor.  Once we arrived there, we ended up going through a
similar wait to see the doctor, although this time I brought some magazines
with me, so I could read the articles to Pat and discuss what they were
about.  This caused the time to pass better today, than at the other
office.  Once the doctor had Pat seated in the chair, we both held our
breath while the doctor made his observations.  He continually asked Pat
questions as he examined him, and when he finished, he asked me if I would
join him in the other room.

"Dad, please," Pat pleaded, "I want to know what he's going to say.  I'll
be okay.  I can handle it."

"If that's what you think, then I agree with you," I responded.  "You're
old enough and mature enough for this, so that's what we'll do."  The
doctor looked at me as if I had three heads, shrugged his shoulders and
then stood like a statue for a moment.  I decide he was still unsure about
doing it this way, so I reacted first.

"Doctor, I've always told my boys that I'll treat them as adults, as long
as they acted as such.  Pat has and deserves to be privy to what you're
going to tell me."

"Hey, if you two agree, who am I to argue?" he countered, although he still
didn't look convinced.  "All right, this is what I've discovered.  Pat has
received damaged to both corneas, but the damage is much worse to the right
eye.  Unfortunately, I doubt he'll ever have any vision in that eye again,
because the damaged he sustained is too extensive to be reversed.  However,
the left eye offers some hope.  I do believe he'll have limited vision in
that eye, such as being able to see shadows and vague shapes, although he
will still be classified as being legally blind in that eye too."  I saw
Pat tense up after hearing this and watched as he tried to maintain his
composure.  "I'm sorry I don't have better news for you, but there has just
been too much damage, so I can't offer you more hope than that."

At that moment, I saw Pat slowly exhale, but only out of necessity, and I
could see the disappointment etched upon his face.  After a couple of
minutes, he regained his composure and then tried to find out exactly what
he'd have to endure.  He began to question the doctor about the extent of
the damage done to each eye and examined the details about how much
eyesight he might still have in his left eye, while I just sat and
listened.  Pat was very thorough, even asking the doctor about the smallest
detail concerning his options, while verifying just how much he'd be able
to see and do.  I could tell the doctor was quite impressed with how Pat
handled himself and possibly now agreed with our decision to include him in
on this information.  For the most part, I let the two of them discuss
everything with each other and I just sat back and listened.  When Pat had
asked all he could think of at that time, he became very quiet and seemed
to be considering the information he had just received.  Just before we
left, the doctor spoke to me.

"I wasn't sure I agreed with you when you first wanted to include Patrick
in on this discussion," he admitted, "but I now realize you know your son
very well.  I would never have expected a boy his age to be able to deal
with his emotions and the ramifications of what I told him, and still be
able to think clearly and ask some very pertinent questions.  I think both
of you should be complimented, him for his maturity and you for doing such
a fine job of raising him."

"Thank you, doctor, but I can't take all the credit for that," I informed
him.  "Pat has only been with me for a few years and came to me with a
certain amount of maturity.  He proved that to me early, by dealing with
some problems within the family after he first arrived.  Besides, I suspect
he'll recover quicker and more fully if he is involved and has some control
over what is going to happen to him."

"Well, regardless of who guided him, he is a remarkable young man and I
will do everything within my power to help him," the doctor acknowledged.
"I want both of you to take care and I'll see you again in another week.
Just have the receptionist set up your next appointment as you leave."

We thanked him, made the appointment and started home.  In the van, Pat
didn't speak at first.  He just seemed to be mentally reviewing what he had
been told.  Eventually I spoke to him.  "Anything I can help with?" I
asked, hoping to get him to open up a little.

"Nobody can help me with this, I know that now," he replied.  "I'm going to
be blind and the only thing anyone can do now is to teach me how to be a
good blind person."  He began to sob, although I didn't see any tears, and
I reached over and placed my hand on his leg, trying to comfort him.  "Why
did this have to happen to me, Dad?  I wasn't doing anything wrong and I
didn't cause it.  Why do I have to be the one who's blind now?"

"I don't have an answer for that," I offered.  "It was just an unfortunate
accident.  It could have happened to anyone."

"Then why didn't it?" he countered.  "Why did it have to happen to me?  Am
I a bad person?  Is that why this happened to me?"

"No, Pat, you're not a bad person," I told him.  "You were just in the
wrong place at the wrong time.  I don't know what else I can tell you."

"I don't know if I can do this, Dad," he sobbed out.  "I guess I never
considered how much I relied on my eyes until I didn't have them any more."

"It is very easy to take something like that for granted," I admitted, "but
you can do fine without them.  You've already proven that to an extent, as
you've done things for yourself since the accident, without too many
problems."

"But I didn't know I was ALWAYS going to be blind then!" he exclaimed.
"Dad, I don't know how blind people live this way and I'm not sure if I can
do it."

"Well, I guess it's probably is easier for those who have been blind since
birth or became blind at a very young age, as they might not be able to
fully understand or appreciate what they are missing," I offered, "but
those who lose their eyesight later in life can end up doing just as well.
They can still lead productive and fulfilling lives."

"I know, but they must be special people," he countered.  "It would take a
very strong person to cope with something like this, or losing their
speech, hearing, a limb, or becoming paralyzed.  Having to cope with any of
those problems would be hard to adjust to and I'm not sure I can do it.
All I can think about now is how most of the things I like to do won't be
the same now, because I can't see.  Either I won't be able to do them or I
can no longer do them the way I want to."

"I can understand how you feel and I can empathize with you're concerns," I
agreed, and then paused as I tried to come up with an argument that might
also give him some degree of hope.



Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 14 -- Playing the Hand You're Dealt.

It was several moments before I could think of a way to counter Pat's
concerns.  I wasn't certain if it would be enough, but it was all I could
come up with for the time being.

"Pat, do you remember learning about Helen Keller in school?" I began.
"She was blind AND deaf, but she graduated from college and went on to do
great things.  You can too.  It's just that you have to believe in yourself
first.  You'll never know what you can accomplish until you try, but I
think you're the type of guy who can overcome any obstacle, no matter how
great it is."

"I'm not so sure about that," he confessed.  "I don't think I could have
done what she did, Dad.  I mean, I understand what you're trying to tell
me, but I can't imagine being happy without being able to see.  I won't be
able to watch television or go to the movies.  I won't be able to play
sports or see what my girlfriend looks like.  And what kind of girl would
want to go out with a blind guy anyway?"

"A girl who loves the person and isn't overly concerned with appearance or
what others think," I replied, as soothingly and convincingly as possible.

"Yeah, the ugly ones, fat ones and those who don't want to make themselves
look nice..." but I cut him off.

"And you wouldn't be interested in them?" I countered, knowing where he was
going with this.  "You'd let those types of things bother you, even if they
were willing to overlook your scars and being blind?"

"I don't want someone who doesn't look good," he confirmed.

"What difference would that make, if you can't see them?" I asked, hoping
he would realize how shallow this was.

"Well, other people would still be able to see them," he replied.

"And it wouldn't make a difference if they were nice, kind, considerate,
friendly or if they truly loved you?" I pressed.

"Dad, I think I know what you're getting at, but I wouldn't want my friends
or brothers making fun of me because of what she looked like or whatever,"
he announced, as if that were all there were to it.

"Would these same people be making fun of you because you're blind?" I
asked, in order to make my next point.

"That's a dumb question.  You know they wouldn't," he told me, stubbornly.

"Then why would they make fun of whatever girl you would want to be with?"
I asked.  "If they are willing to overlook your problems, wouldn't they
also be willing to overlook any flaws in the person you loved?"

"It's not the same thing, Dad," he countered, but then paused, unable to
explain why he thought this.

"Yes, it is, Pat," I informed him.  "They wouldn't make fun or you, because
they loved you, and they wouldn't make fun of anyone you loved or chose to
be with for the same reason.  If they did, then they are the ones who are
not worth worrying about."  Pat started to open his mouth, but didn't say
anything.  He closed it again and then sat there for a minute or so,
thinking about something.  When he did finally speak; it was in a very soft
voice.

"Okay, maybe you're right about that," he conceded, "but I always saw
myself having a cute wife and cute kids.  How's that going to happen now?"

"It may or it may not, but I don't think it will hinge totally on whether
or not you are blind," I replied.  "I do think you may have to reconsider
or modify some of your goals, but I don't think you'll have to make any
drastic changes to your life.  With the advances that are being made in
medical science and technology every year, someone could come up with a
cure for your situation or develop a technology to help you become more
productive.  It is even easier now then when Helen Keller did it and you
might wish to consider what Stephen Hawkings has done, even with his
handicap.  He has come up with theories to challenge even the most
intelligent people."

"Is he that scientist guy in the wheelchair?" Pat asked, trying to place
the name

"Yes, the British physicist who has come up with ideas about how the
universe expands, theories about black holes and he even wrote the book, 'A
Brief History of Time'.  He suffers from ALS (amyotrophic lateral
sclerosis), Lou Gehrig's Disease, but he didn't stop trying and coming up
with amazing discoveries.  He's in a wheelchair and can hardly do anything
for himself without someone to help him or the aid of technology, but he
never gave up hope or stopped trying to do what he was capable of.  Without
his efforts, it may have been decades before we could have come up with the
theories or explanations he has set forth, so the advances in his field of
science would have been drastically slowed."

"Okay, I see your point, but why did this have to happen to me?  I'm not a
great thinker like he is.  I'm only average in school," Pat asserted.

"Look, Pat, I'm not sure if I can explain why bad things happen to good
people, but they do," I responded.  "I've always heard that the Lord moves
and operates in mysterious ways, but there must be some reason why you were
chosen in this case.  Maybe you are the only one who can do something that
needs to be done, but only if you are in this condition.  Or possibly it's
the only way you can learn some valuable lesson.  I'm just not sure of the
reason, but it doesn't negate the fact there is a purpose for this to have
occurred."

"What could I possibly learn or do?" he whined, not yet convinced by my
argument.

"I don't have the answer for that, but there must be something," I
reiterated.  "Some day we might be able to look back and decide what it
was, but for now, you'll just have to try to do whatever you can to not let
this effect you negatively."

"I'll try, but it will be hard," he admitted.

"I'm sure it will be, but I also know you can do it, if anyone can," I told
him.

"You really think so?" he asked, amazed.

"I have all the confidence in the world in you," I assured him.  "I'm
betting you're not going to let this ruin your life.  It may change it
some, but you aren't going to let it ruin it for you."

"I hope you're right, and I'll do my best," he assured me.  At least he was
more positive about it now.

"That's all any of us could ask," I concurred.

After our discussion, Pat began concentrating on his dilemma and I was
dying to know what he was thinking about.  As hard as it was, I didn't
bother him and left him to his thoughts until he decided to share them with
me.  A short time later, he came out to speak with me.

"Dad, I think I have an idea," he began, while facing in my general
direction.  "Maybe we can help some handicapped kids by using some of the
money from the charity.  Maybe we could help them get the things they need
to be able to enjoy their lives more fully or make it easier for their
families to deal with them.  And if they don't have families, maybe we
could help them get adopted.  What do you think about that, Dad?"  I could
tell he wasn't sure what I'd think of his suggestion, but I knew he was
bursting inside, hoping that I saw the same possibilities he did.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," I agreed, "and I'll mention it to Sally,
the next time we speak.  We'd been considering focusing on hard to place
children, but I think including handicapped children is a stroke of pure
genius.  See, already you're proving how valuable you can be!"

Even though Pat's chest swelled with pride, I could still tell he was a bit
embarrassed by my praise.  His blushing gave it away.  It was, however,
comforting to know he had taken our previous conversation seriously.
Although he had first been tempted to wallow in self-pity, he had taken my
advice to heart and was already trying to act upon it.  It was then that I
knew he was going to do just fine.

That night Pat shared his suggestion with his brothers and they all thought
it was a good idea too, but they weren't sure how much the charity could do
to help these children.  Therefore, in order to better understand what Pat
was going through and what he wanted to do for others with handicaps, the
boys decided they wanted to experience what it was like being blind as
well.

To accomplish this, they agreed to help each other carry out an experiment
and split into pairs, with one of each pair having his eyes covered
completely for the rest of the day.  They were going to do this until late
the following afternoon, and then switch places with their partner.  The
other person was to make sure the 'blind' boy didn't get hurt in the
process and be there to help him with whatever he might need along the way.
I was glad to see everyone was willing to experience the hardships of what
it would be like to be blind, if only for a limited amount of time, and
wanted to learn what others had to go through when they could not see.
Although it was a limited experience, it would still give them a taste of
what it was really like and help them appreciate it better than they could
without experiencing it personally.

I must admit it was a rather interesting day, as the boys tried to do for
their partners what we had all done for Pat.  They tried to help them play
a few games, as well as read them stories, magazine articles and comics,
but the 'blind' boys thought most of those activities lacked the same
attraction and enjoyment level they had when they could also see what was
going on.  Then came the mealtimes.  Lunch and dinner were new lessons in
patience and adjustment, and there were more than a few accidents along the
way.  Pat felt honored that his brothers were doing all of this just to see
what he was going through, so they could understand it better and help him
adjust.  He was right.  I was pretty impressed by that too.

By Saturday afternoon the 'blind' boys were more than ready to regain their
sight and switch roles.  That did not happen before they discussed what it
was like not being able to see and shared their thoughts and feelings with
the others who had gone through it at the same time.  One particular
disturbing time for them was when they awakened during the night or first
thing in the early morning and had forgotten about their temporary
condition.  Some went through more than a little distress during those
times, believing something was really wrong with them, before they
remembered their experiment.

The next group took their turn at being 'blind' and I was pleased to see
those who had already gone through this were not taking it lightly and were
intent upon giving their partners the benefit of what they had learned.
They would let them grope with something for a while and not rush in to
bail them out or offer advice.  This was because they didn't wish to
interfere with their partner's chance to learn from the experience, the
same way they had.  They would even let their 'blind' partner become
frustrated over their inability to do something, before they'd actually
give them help, and then only enough to keep them from giving up.  They
certainly didn't want to make this easy for them or let them off without a
true appreciation for what it was like.  At meals we had a few more
accidents -- with things getting knocked over, dropped on the floor and
some major spills, but nothing too serious.  As evening rolled around, the
boys led their partners to clean up, but they would not do it for them.
Each one of them forced his partner to do everything for himself, and even
the limited sexual encounters were strictly a hands-on experience this time
around.

Sunday morning things seemed to going along fairly normally, although the
boys decided to end their experiment before we went to church.  This was
because they didn't want to draw any more attention to Pat than would
already be the case.  They did, however, continue their research throughout
breakfast and while getting ready for Sunday services, but uncovered their
eyes once we were in the van.  I think everyone now had a better
appreciation for what Pat was going through and could better understand his
fears and apprehensions.  As we drove to church, Pat took a second to thank
each of them for going to all that trouble to understand what was happening
to him and emphasized it made him feel good to know his brothers were
willing to do so much, primarily for him.

Once he finished, the boys told him they learned from it too and it would
help them decide how they could best assist him, while trying to make
certain he would remain as independent as possible.  It was a very proud
time for me, watching my boys learn lessons in humility, empathy and
cooperation.

By the time we arrived at church, all of us were ready to attend the
service as usual, although this time there was a slight different.  Pat
stayed close to me, holding tightly to my arm, seeing this was one of his
rare appearances in public since the accident.  He was concerned, and maybe
even a little afraid, of the types of reaction he would get from the
others, although he couldn't see how they were responding.  I have to
admit, there were some stares, but most of this attention was just normal
curiosity about his condition.  Some of the parishioners even came over to
speak to us when we arrived, so they could tell Pat how sorry they were to
hear about his accident and let him know they were praying things would
work out for him.  Pat thanked them, realizing they were being sincere in
their good wishes, and then we went in and sat down, waiting for the sermon
to begin.  After singing a couple of hymns to start the service, a few
announcements were read, and then our minister stepped forward and
addressed the congregation.

"Today's sermon will be based on a inspirational piece written by Mary
Stevenson in 1936" the pastor began.  "I have chosen to use this as the
starting point today for many reasons, most of which revolve around people
blaming God for all the ills of the world, especially tragedy and illness,
and for suggesting that God is just a figment of man's imagination and a
way to explain unexplainable events.  Well, I'm here to tell you that Jesus
is our rock and our foundation.  He is here for us when we need him most,
and even though we don't understand why some things happen as they do, he
does have a plan for each of us.  I am often comforted by the thought once
told to me by my mother, 'that when God closes a door, he opens a window.'
This has always reassured me and helped me to realize that no matter what
happens or how bad the situation seems at the time, God often provides us
with another path, often equally as good as the one we were on.  I hope
this also proves comforting to you and that you will listen carefully to
the words I am about to read to you.  This simple piece is entitled,
'Footprints in the Sand'.

"One night a man had a dream.  He dreamed he was walking along the beach
with the Lord.  Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.  For each
scene he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him
and the other to the Lord.  When the last scene of his life flashed before
him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand.  He noticed that many
times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.  He
also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his
life.  This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it: 'Lord,
you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all they
way.  But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints.  I don't understand why, when I needed
you most, you would leave me.'  The Lord replied: 'My son, my precious
child, I love you and I would never leave you.  During your times of trial
and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I
carried you."

The pastor paused briefly, to allow those assembled to absorb the full
meaning of these words.  After an appropriate amount of time had passed, he
began again.  "If you will trust in the Lord and lean on him during your
times of need, he will support you and even carry you when you are too weak
to go on alone.  When a door has been shut in your life, he will help you
open a window and give you other options.  If you are willing to look for
such possibilities, you will discover his guidance each and every time you
need him.  He will always be there to help you go on."

After a few more hymns and some closing comments, the service ended and
everyone began to leave.  On the way out, we said our good-byes and
complimented the minister on his sermon.  While we were there, he turned
toward Pat and told him he hoped that he too found the strength to deal
with his problems and to call upon the Lord for guidance during this
difficult time.

"Do you really think he'll open a window for me?" Pat asked him.

"Yes, my son, I do," he responded.  "You'll just have to be patient and
observant, so you'll notice it when it does open."

We both thanked him again and began to head for the van when Sally
intercepted us.  She greeted the boys and me, but specifically told Pat she
was sorry to hear about his situation.  Once that was taken care of, I took
a second to apprise her about Pat's suggestion that we help physically
handicapped children.  We gave her a quick rundown about what Pat intended
and Sally thought it was a wonderful idea.  She said she would explore it
further and look into institutions that deal with such children on a larger
scale.  We both thanked her and then headed home.

Once there, some of the boys and I began to start our Sunday dinner, when
Pat asked to speak we me.  I agreed, but he made it clear he wanted to go
to my bedroom, so we could talk privately.  After telling him that would be
fine, I led him in, we sat on the bed and Pat began to ask his questions.

"Do you think the minister was right when he told us God opens a window
when he closes a door?" he asked, to see if I believed in what the minister
had told us.

"Yes, I do, Pat," I confirmed.  "When he closed a door to me, after my wife
died, I often wondered if I'd ever feel needed or find happiness again.
That's when he opened a window, making it possible for me to become a
foster parent, thus bringing all of you boys into my life.  I believe he
did a similar thing later, when our family continued to grow and began to
put a strain on our finances.  It was then that he guided Mr. Goldman to
include us in his will and leave his life's savings for our benefit.  Yes,
Pat, God does open windows when it seems he has shut a door."

"What do you think that will mean for me?" he wondered.  "What kind of
window do you think he'll open, now that he's closed the door on my sight?"

"I have no way of knowing that, but I'm sure something will come up," I
explained, sincerely.  "It may just be a way to cope with your condition,
new options to choose from, maybe a new insight into your life or a way to
help others in similar conditions.  Maybe that's why you came up with the
idea of having the charity help physically handicapped children cope with
their condition or find new homes.  I doubt that suggestion would have come
to you without this having happened first, so maybe that was one of the
windows he opened for you.  There may be others too, but only time will
tell and I pray He makes the signs obvious enough so you won't miss them."

"Thanks, Dad, and I hope both you and the minister are right," he finished.
As I got up to leave, Pat asked if he could stay there and think about
things for a while longer, so I let him lie on the bed, while I went back
to fix the meal.  I knew he would have to answer many of these questions
for himself and I could only guide him when he wished me to, but his
greatest struggles would still lie ahead.


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