Yeah, that's what I'd like to know! As I was leaving that day (I was pretty steamed), the P.O. came up and said brusquely, "what happened to him?" I started to explain about the virus, and after about 5 seconds he interrupted me and said, "well, Jehovah will give you strength to endure," and walked off! That really did it. I stomped out of there, went home, and told Big Tex I was never going back. He poured me a glass of wine and said, "I've been waiting a long time for you. Welcome home." Bless his heart, he was patient for 15 years, waiting for me to catch up and see the things he had already seen. He didn't want to tell me what to do because he knew it would be best for me to decide on my own (he says I'm the second most stubborn person he knows).
That incident made an impression on the kids too, particularly Jackson, who noticed how total strangers would stop to ask what happened to him, and how all the little girls fought to be in charge of pushing him around in his wheelchair for the last week of Kindergarten. He has also noticed that, after we stopped going to meetings and (horrors!) started celebrating birthdays and holidays, his "best friend" suddenly stopped getting to come over. Hmmmm.
Nina