An odd post in Poetry as exposition. I have mentioned in here…. this straight out. That my very close friend arranged in sixth grade for the two of us to do dishes for Lunch. My father was Vice President of a major company and they never gave me lunch money or had food to prepare in the morning for lunch.
I was getting the attention of a very kind neighbor and I ran into my new school friend at the beginning of the year while signing yearbooks, and he invited me to his Church. He wore a t-shirt from a tire center. I wanted to point out the level that Jonas Salk Elementary School was paying attention to me. I was developing childhood diabetes from cortisol levels from PTSD. Salk Elementary had done things already in my life like invite High School students in to teach us foreign languages at their homes in the late afternoons. We would face cards with pictures face down on the table, do it for me someday, and we would turn a card and remember where the matching card would be and name what was on the card and discuss it in French or Italian. And in the evening I would, with someone, go to the YMCA and practice Taekwondo. I played Trumpet, Piano, Guitar, and Drums. All for Rehab for the hit to my left Cortex and that I had been through emotionally. But tonight I realized they were even manipulating the two of us getting me to do dishes. Yes it was a Zen thing called pacing for diabetes.
And I had my friend Eddie who was my neighbor two years older than me that wanted to be my tutor cause he was my neighbor. And he knew how to get through the way I thought. He knew I liked languages and History and he said that if they could supply the materials he would have me teach him and in that I would prepare the material for him and I would learn. I have CAPD and phrasing what I was reaching out to learn as a manual for my lessons worked. He was my best friend and one time he asked my neighbor if he could make him a hero like Kit Carson.
