Lifting Up Kevin's Hands

     Sometimes Kevin would just look at you until he made eye contact. Once he made eye contact, he would then look at one of his hands (as if pointing and asking at the same time for you to pick up his hand and play with it. Sometimes it seemed as if his eyes were begging: please pick me up!). Then he would look back at you, to make sure you understood his request. If you did and moved toward him, he would smile with his eyes. The beginning of the experience and friendship was communication; and with Kevin, eye contact opened up a whole new dynamic and level of friendship.

     It’s hard to put into words the feeling that comes from being the hands and feet for someone who is unable to move on their own. Part of the overwhelming wonder of the experience was always the fact that Kevin craved this type of expression, and when he got it, he was extremely happy and appreciative: his face would beam and his eyes would take in every moment and movement that played out in front of him. If you lifted up his hands, even to clap them together, there would be a look of awe and wonder all over his face, as if he was suddenly recognizing the magnificence and miracle of our bodies in movement.

     Kevin understood: the movement we take for granted, Kevin cherished and marveled at. He cherished every moment that his hands were picked up and put into motion--clapping, waving, beckoning, touching, and holding. He was able to see his own body moving through space and recognized the beauty and miracle before him. --Allen Lujan