Once fitted for the elements, clad in his orange snow-suit and boots, he trudged up the silent, snow-blanketed avenue as I watched through the kitchen window. Before reaching the house, he stopped and resolutely turned toward home, not desiring to undergo further pursuit. I felt my heart break for him as my eyes welled up with tears. How lonely the world could be! I decided in an instant to meet him at the door, clothed in my winter coat.
Together we took a long walk in the snow, heading down a wooded path to the quiet street below. We spoke of many things, gently laying the foundation for a night that I would never forget. I believe our stroll, although spurred through loneliness, was the most relaxing interlude I have ever shared with Todd.
As time progressed, the gap between our personalities widened. When engaged in a serious conversation, I found the time thus spent to be exhilarating, for Todd's intelligence was of great merit; it was increasingly difficult, however, for me to accompany him to various functions as I failed to understand the reasoning which prompted some of his actions and behavior. Desiring to blend with the crowd rather than direct its attention, I was flushed with embarrassment at any mannerism which was apart from the ordinary spectrum of social conduct as I saw it to be.
Everyone views life through his own eyes, and although the ideas of individuals coincide at various points, it is virtually impossible to assume that which is "right" for someone else at a given point in time. This was another area in which Todd and I differed considerably, yet here I was able to comprehend the motive behind his good intentions. Because Todd declined invitations to attend outings early in life, he later found he was no longer asked to join in a group's activities. As a result, he eventually forced himself to become involved in multiple organizations thereby making up for those he had missed; he evidently enjoyed the bustle of activity which the groups provided, and was soon absent from the house nearly every night.
When Todd saw I was declining offers to attend parties or dances, he thought I was following similar actions which had introduced alienation into his life, and I would one day discover that I was not only alone, but lonely.
Mar. 23, 1977… (A boy) called and asked if I could go to the dance at his school. When I called him back, he was really discouraged and mad that I didn't want to go. But, man, he's so gross! Never ever combs his hair. How sick. Todd really lectured me on how I should go 'cuz he didn't when he was my age, but I can't relive his life! He makes me mad sometimes.
He pressured me to accept these invitations despite my reasons for desiring to stay at home. Consequently, it made me become leary to divulge any plans to him for fear I would find myself in a situation that I detested; his arguments were fierce and unyielding, and I sought to avoid them whenever I could. Moreover, I wanted to form my own decisions and began to resent such stubborn, relentless interference. I believe it is better to "let be" than to stray beyond one's bounds into the gray and scarred battle ground where individual decisions are waged and won; it is prudent to counsel, but never so to force.
Todd was unbelievably innovative. He could construct posters and cards having multiple moving parts without losing any degree of his meticulous patience. The quality of perseverance was a further boon to his imaginative efforts, and he created countless fascinating objects dating back to my earliest memories. I received a greeting from Todd during my long stay at Mayo. It was a note scribbled on an intentionally crumpled piece of paper. No purchased card could have captured the essence of that note, or of the crumpled course my life must take. Todd always had time to take a walk or to play a game. He never forgot a birthday… with gifts he was equally creative. One birthday I received a huge balloon (a factory reject) which was a source of awe and amazement for us all. We filled it with the exhaust end of the vacuum cleaner since no one had lungs with the capacity for inflating that monstrous thing. Another year, short of funds but long on loving thoughts, he collected a wide sampling of floral and tree seed pods. For me, that meant endless possibilities in creating.
Toward the end of 9th grade, I had gained a fair amount of confidence. I was amazed to note the way in which the improvements in my health and appearance affected my self-worth; I no longer felt like a helpless child clinging to my mother's skirt or father's pants leg for protective solace. I was less reserved, feeling that my opinions were just as valuable as those of others, and decisions, though sometimes tempered by my parents, belonged to me. Life was not merely passing by; I possessed both the ability and the will to actively pursue the means toward a hopeful end. The variables along the way would affect the resulting success or failure, but that, I knew, was simply a part of life's uncertainty.
Academically I improved as my physical strength increased. In reflection, it was obvious that my tutor had not over-taxed my capabilities during the previous year; I was grateful that she had not, for the nature of my illness was such that I was forever unsure of the state of my health. Upon my reappearance at school the extra effort required for 9th grade curriculum initially demanded more of my time and mental exertion; when I finally redeveloped my listening, comprehension and study techniques, however, I felt less hampered by the work load.