Gaylen, a repost

Gaylen
For many years, I’ve heard the expression "special" applied to developmentally disabled persons and I always felt it was rather patronizing. But then Gaylen came into my life. He was indeed "special". My heart still tweaks when I think of him and it’s been many years since he went to be with his Lord.The beginning of our relationship is a little vague. He was residing in a nursing home near our church and he began attending, usually walking to and from and occasionally allowing us to transport him by car, van, and, later by bus. Somehow we thought this was a privilege! At some point it became his "job" to empty the trash cans in the church and adjoining Christian School. He was never asked to do this but took it upon himself, probably because that was his job at Developmental Training Services where he went daily. Upon arriving home he would walk the block or so to his "other job". One late evening he was found sitting outside the pastor’s study window, apparently waiting for the opportunity to empty the pastor’s trash can.Gaylen had a wonderful relationship with the children at the school. They loved him and learned much about feeling comfortable about "different" people. Although Gaylen was in his early 40’s he was very much like a child in his feelings and thinking (he had Down’s Syndrome). One day he came to the school wearing the medal he had won in Special Olympics. While playing ping-pong, one of the boys began teasing Gaylen about getting a necklace from a girlfriend. Gaylen put up with it for a while and then he took action.Joe had hit the ball astray and, when it stopped rolling, Gaylen casually walked over as if he intended to pick it up for Joe. Instead he very carefully stepped on it and smashed it. Joe reported it to the teacher who came and questioned Gaylen about it. "Gaylen, did you step on the ping-pong ball?" "No." "Gaylen, let me see what you have in your hand." Gaylen opened his hand, saw the smashed ball and exclaimed, "Oh! THAT ping-pong ball!"Gaylen was the only one besides the pastor’s wife who was allowed to address the pastor by his first name.Gaylen was the perfect church member. He was so devoted, however, that he would come to church sick. One time he passed out and we had to have someone from the nursing home come and get him. He was in bed for a week with the flu. They had to use safety devices to keep him in bed long enough to recover. He also listened attentively. On many occasions, when I would go to the nursing home on Sunday afternoon, I would find Gaylen standing in front of his mirror preaching, using the same words, expressions, and inflections that the pastor used that morning. Gaylen had his own "sitting place" at church and woe unto the innocent who sat in his place. One occasion stands out in my mind. A couple (who probably knew better but were displaced when someone sat in their place) sat in Gaylen’s row, at his end of the front pew. When he saw this, he snapped his fingers loudly, pointed at the couple, and motioned them out of his place. Of course, who argues with such authority? They moved.This wonderful fellow always wore his cowboy hat and carried his "banjo" (which was actually a cheap guitar). He would strum and sing songs for the children. It sounded terrible but he was so full of love for everybody that it didn’t seem to matter somehow.Gaylen loved Jesus and knew he would go to Heaven. He loved the moon and talked about visiting it when he went to Heaven. On day at church he kept trying to tell me something. As he was somewhat difficult to understand at times, I didn’t think too much of it. He kept saying he was going to Salida, a neighboring town. Going on outings wasn’t unusual at this particular nursing home so I thought little of it. Later that week I learned that he was being placed in a group home in Salida where he could live a "more independent" life with other developmentally disabled persons. Before a week had passed, my dear Gaylen got to go to be with the Jesus he loved so much.Later, I learned that the people caring for him wondered about the church and school he repeatedly asked to go to, and that they had no idea who "Carl" (the pastor) was that he kept asking for. My heart breaks when I think of that week. I wanted to go see him the very first weekend he was gone but convinced myself I should let him make an adjustment first. Before the next weekend came, he was gone. I know in my heart that he didn’t understand what "going to Salida" meant. I don’t believe he had the capability to understand what "moving to Salida" meant in terms of time. He didn’t know he was going to stay there. I TRULY BELIEVE THAT GAYLEN DIED OF A BROKEN HEART. In my head I know that Down’s Syndrome people reach a peak in their 40’s and then start a decline which ends in total dependency. We know now that it is the same as Alzheimer’s disease and it would have been terrible to see Gaylen go through that. I also know that heart abnormalities are common in people with Down’s Syndrome and that it was a massive heart attack that killed him. But I truly believe that he died of a broken heart because he couldn’t find the church and his beloved friends.It was the sweetest funeral I had ever attended. All the children from the school and Gaylen’s friends from DTS were there. Gaylen is buried where there is no perpetual upkeep but his friends from DTS keep his grave clean and decorated. I was concerned that he would never have a headstone, but someone has made him one out of concrete, a simple one but one made out of love. The important thing is that Gaylen is in Heaven and probably is the moon-keeper or something. I think of him absolutely every time I see the moon, especially a full moon because that’s the one he especially loved.Knowing this man was such a blessing to our church family. Thank you, dear Lord!