Arty knew there was someone sitting on the couch with him and Emma, but with only five words he could speak there was no way to communicate the fact. The burier between dimensions was thin to nonexistent for him. One of the blessings of Angelmen’s…he could literally see angels. He did flap his arms rapidly, smile and laugh, but those were his go-to moves all the time so Emma just thought he was happy and enjoying the story. But he knew they were near watching over them.
It had been a shock when he was born. Not the actual birth process, some remembered that fluid-filled maneuver, but his memory went from being bright, hanging out and learning up above, to slam, bam, here I am. At first he found it awkward to manipulate his unwieldy new body, but he was getting a handle on that now. He could even do some things with this cumbersome limbs that were harder without, like giving a real fleshy hug. The hardest part for him was his limited communication skills. Before he had been a bit of a chatty man. It was a huge challenge to express himself in his new situation with limited vocabulary and mental capacity. He just needed to try to be more creative in his endeavors.
Arty’s days were filled with therapies, therapists and Emma. Joy, their home health nurse, arrived the earliest and took care of his physical grooming and hygiene needs. She was there all day doing any minor medical procedures for him and his mother. Then each day a series of therapists stopped by to attempt to work their magic. Laura was the speech therapist. They were up to those five precious words he could now use…”water”(Arty was fascinated with water), “happy”, “food”, “mom” and “Emma” which came out more like Emmm…ten words were pretty much the limit with Angelmen genetic carriers.
Bob “the bodyman" worked on physical therapies and helped Arty with walking and balance. He could walk now, but had a wide awkward gate and stumbled easily. Lastly was Cindy, she was Arty’s occupational therapist. Even though Arty would never have an occupation, she helped him learn things like feeding himself without making too much of a mess, brushing his teeth and all things to help him live a little independently. They were the team to help him get the most out of the days he had here with the abilities he had been given.
Arty’s world was full of good people helping him to be the best he could be, but Emma was always his favorite. She was the one who brought delight into his days. Laughs and smiles came easily to his cherubic face, but when Emma was around it was constant. She understood what he wanted even before he pulled her there and was always willing to read him a book or give him a hug. She was his best friend and the angel in his life really.
Emma was the first to recognize that music was another mode of healing therapy for Arty, he could be calmed or have his mood changed when she played different melodies. Rock and Rap seemed to make him more agitated, while Classical and Christian music had the opposite effect. One of his favorite songs was “How Great Thou Art”. He always pointed to himself when the word “Art” was sung. Arty thought the song was about him and who knows, perhaps it could be about him too. He was pretty great.
What those that surrounded him did not realize was that Arty was so much more than met the earthly eye. He had chosen to be born with this challenge, not for himself, but for those whose lives he interacted with. Everyone is given trials to overcome during their sojourn on the third planet from the sun. Some are more easily identifiable like illness, disease and imperfect bodies. Events that happen while living can also be part of the test…a beloved family member dying, divorce, loss of employment…the options were endless. Then there were those tests that were not as obvious. A life of ease and wealth did not always enable a person to sacrifice and grow enough to become all that they could have become. People that appeared to have it all here on earth, could be morally bankrupt when it came to what they would take back with them. True tragedies were not always what one might guess.
In Arty’s circumstance, having to deal with a less than perfect life taught others much more than if he had been born fully functioning. He was still his eternal self inside and was sometimes frustrated that he could not help Emma and his family see what he could in this imperfect body. The blinders were off for him. He knew what was not only of value here, but forever. His limited body and mind were but for a brief time and if he endured them well, he would have his reward. But actually, he liked his life. He had all of his needs met and great people surrounding him who loved him. Even if he could share his more intelligent self who knows if anyone would listen and he may get lost in the process. In the maze of worldly glitz it was easy to be deceived and not know what really sparkled.
Today he wanted to show Emma something, but with his lack of communication skills and understanding he often just gestured or grabbed her wrist and beckoned her to where he wanted her to go. It was a Saturday so Emma did not have to rush off to school and had time to let him share his wonders. Most often he took her to the food pantry for a pack of fruit snacks. A body needed to be fed.
Holding on to her hand he guided her back to their mother’s room. There Maggie lay peacefully in her bed. It would be good for Emma and Arty to visit her this morning, but he continued past the hospital bed back to the small medicine room that had been Maggie’s changing area off the master bath. In former days it had been full of stylish clothes for a classy dresser who wore more than hospital gowns. Now it housed medicines and medical equipment.
Arty pointed to a small shelf up high on the wall that was partially hidden among the more practical items. Emma carefully moved the incentive spirometer to assist with deeper filling of her mother’s lungs and saw what Arty wanted her to see. There amid the medical supplies was a collection of her mother’s Willow Tree angels looking delicate and lovely even covered with dust. There they stood, sat, danced and lay long forgotten on the high wooden shelf. He wanted to see them better.
Emma moved the equipment and scooted the chair over to reveal some of the lovely groupings. There were fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, friends and sisters, but her favorites were the single angels with wire wings. Four of them especially stood out. There was one reading a book, one holding some kind of lantern or old-fashioned light, a third had a small child wrapped protectively in their arms and the last, even with no facial expression, exhibited utmost joy with her elbows raised and hands nearly touching in what looked like a clapping motion. A corner of her long skirt bent upward like she may have been dancing and her head was slightly tilted. Emma’s loved the emotion exuded from this carved form and held it down for Arty to examine more closely.
As she lifted the figure off the shelf she noticed that it had a name written on the bottom and each did respectively. The one with the book had the word “Wisdom”, the one with the light was “Angel of Hope”, the one with the child was “Angel’s Embrace” and her favorite dancing angel was “Angel of Happiness”. Arty started to clap his hands when she showed this charming angel to him, reflecting back the angel itself that she held in her hand. Arty wanted to hold it, so she hesitantly shared the fragile heavenly messenger. He was more gentle than usual, but she still hovered to make sure it did not break.
These beautiful angels had been long forgotten on this shelf. Maybe a little symbolic of how all angels are shelved in our lives at times she thought. These sculpted ones were so gracefully beautiful and somehow made Emma feel more peaceful. She let Arty look at them as long as he wanted, which with his short attention span was not long. When he started to pull her away, she put all the angels back, but one that she tucked in her pocket. She wasn’t sure why, but she was not ready to let go of her yet.
As Arty shuffled out past their mother, Emma stopped to briefly mentioned that she was borrowing one of her mother’s angels for awhile, but would bring her back soon. She wanted to have a longer visit, but Arty was on the go so she blew a quick kiss to the still figure and continued out with her brother towing.
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