Assimilation

My almost 5 year old nephew is still with us, and will be for a while longer.  The infection in my brother’s hand is MRSA, so even though he’s looking better, he’s not safe for his son to be around yet.

The little guy seems to be folding himself into the fabric of our lives without much trouble.  That’s a tall feat for a boy with some special needs.  I credit the kindness and patience of my own children as well as a steady routine for his easy acclimation to our household.  He still looks unsure when we say Grace over dinner or pray at bedtime, but he no longer tries to talk all the way through it either.  He’s learning that a loud verbal correction doesn’t mean that he’s in trouble, but that he just needs to correct what he’s doing.  He’s learning to run with the pack around here.  He’s settling in.

Yesterday on our walk, we rounded the corner to come home and #4 said “There’s our house.”  The nephew shook his head and said, “No, that’s everybody’s house.”  He’s not calling himself one of us, but is one of everybody.  He’s making sense of where he is.  He’s at the house that belongs to everyone who needs a place to go, the house of safe, the house of routine. (As a teenager, I dreamed of finding this kind of house.) For a little boy who needs a little extra help, those things are wonderful.  I’m glad he’s finding them here.

He is trying to understand the rules and the whys of what is going on, and becoming one of us makes the most sense to him now.  As my beloved younger brother said, “We are Borg.  Resistance is futile.”  Who would resist this kind of wonderful?

(I don’t know about you, but I think the Computer Guy looks kinda hot in this picture.)