TEACHER'S PET

Because Philip had been diagnosed 'mentally delayed', we were encouraged to get him started early...so we enrolled him in a nearby preschool program (in St. Catharines) at the age of 4. He loved it and with Diane's help in the classroom and at home we witnessed noticeable and steady progress. He thoroughly enjoyed arts and crafts...colouring and painting. I'm sure it was here that he acquired his love for the feel of a pencil in his hand. His 'fine art' quickly found its way into our hearts and home. The 'masterpieces' were proudly displayed on the fridge...framed and hung on the wall...and, of course, immortalized at the grandparents.


After we moved to Hamilton in 1984, Philip spent 2 years in kindergarten (a mutual decision)...it was determined after that that he would be better off in a class of his peers. He spent the next 12 years in 'special needs' classes...loved going to school...learned at his own pace...and lit up the lives of teachers and fellow students in a way that continues to shine to this day.


Philip so endeared himself to one of his grade school teachers that during the many years he spent in her class and for many years thereafter, she never missed calling him on his birthday to wish him well and check on how he was doing. In fact, while we were living in Newfoundland (4 summers ago), this amazing lady and her husband, while vacationing on the island, made a special effort to locate us and drove several hundred kilometers out of their way to visit and spend a few hours with her 'buddy' Philip. As we've been living in British Columbia now for 3 years, and through no fault of her own, we've lost contact...our bad! (Perhaps this blog will reunite us)


Another time we were having lunch at a restaurant in Burlington with good friends when the waitress serving our table 'blew us away'! She stopped mid-menu, looked at Philip, and literally shouted her surprise at seeing him. She told us that she had taught Philip at General Brock High School about 8 years earlier and he had so impressed her that she had never forgotten him and had often wondered what had become of him. Then she shocked us all and brought tears to our eyes as she reached into her purse and showed us a picture of Philip which she had been carrying around with her all those years (heck...I don't even have a picture of him in my wallet). She was still teaching part-time and waitressing on weekends.


What a wonderful coincidence bumping into her that day...what a magical moment. She gave Philip the biggest hug ....which he accepted graciously (he's very shy about those things)...and continued with her tasks while we enjoyed the most memorable lunch of our lives.


Philip has no clue who Norman Vincent Peale is...but he sure has mastered 'How to Win Friends and Influence People'! His formal education ended at age 18...he's been teaching us and others ever since!

A REAL PANE!

Philip's final year of formal education was at General Brock in Burlington. A great school...wonderful teachers...less than desirable classmates. Maladjusted and behavioural 'baddies' were often put together with 'special needs' students...not a wise decision...not a good mix. His years there were certainly 'stimulating'...it was a period in his life when we and the doctors were struggling to get his medication intake correct. On many occasions I was called at work to rush to Burlington to get him...'cause things were not going well'! Reading, writing and 'rithmetic were not subjects on Philip's agenda...but they were on ours...and it proved to be a daily battle for us and the 'professionals' as we tried desperately to 'rescue' him by getting his dosages right. We eventually found the 'freedom formula', and he's a well adjusted, well balanced 'character' as a result...living life to the fullest...one pencil and one day at a time!

In the midst of all this chaos, I received a frantic call one day from Diane informing me that we had to get to Burlington fast, as Philip had run through a large pane of glass and was badly cut up. When we arrived he was sitting calmly in the Principal's office with bandages and towels covering his arms and face. Apparently he and another student had decided to run full-out down the winding stairs and Philip stumbled during one of the high-speed turns and had crashed right into and partly through the glass. We...not an ambulance (never did figure that out), rushed him to emergency where they cleaned and patched his arms and face...and then stuck a large needle directly into the bridge of his nose, and once frozen, 'stitched him up good'!

Now Philip has never cried (only once that we can recall...at his Auntie's funeral 2 years ago)...and during this entire ordeal he never let out a whimper.He actually found it entertaining...kinda cool! And true to form and in a manner only Philip could get away with, he looked up from his gurney at the female doctor stitching his nose...looked over at me...and commented..."she's a babe!' Now how come we hadn't noticed that?