PAT.

Sometimes it's easy to forget that it's not just children who are with autism.
Young people grow up.
Become middle aged.
Grow to be elderly.



I worked for a nursing agency at various psychiatric hospitals for 3 years.
Pat greeted me, in her own inimitable way, on my very first duty.
Born into , (what was then), a mental asylum over 60 years ago, she had only
ever known lonliness, isolation, fear, cold and hardship.



She taught me to laugh . . . . and a whole lot more too.
Pat died at Christmas 2007.

Thank you Pat. I think of you this Christmas.

The two poems below are for you...with my love...and a smile.