Even before Peter could speak clearly we knew that he was an anxious child. He always had someone hold his hand when he climbed stairs; he cried when I or his mother left him. But among those he trusted, he was warm and trusting - he would hug me and our parents without being asked, and, when he learned to talk, he would tell us that he loved us without being prompted.

His extreme dependence on all of us - especially our mother - endeared him to her, but also concerned her a great deal. He was too dependent by anyone's standards - it seemed at times that he couldn't even function without being held by the hand. Almost as soon as he learned to speak the words "nauseous" and "nervous" became parts of his vocabularly. He didn't want to go to school, not because he was feeling sick or was scared, but because he was nervous. It was an advanced emotion for an advanced child.

Peter underestimated his own abilities and charm, however; once he worked up the courage to attend school, or his playgroup, or a friend's house - though usually not without coercion - everyone would take to him at once. Even as a preschooler he was immensely popular, and children and adults alike loved him.

When he was upset, however, no one but our mother could comfort him.

continue...
posted by Adelaide at 7/4/2000 3:24:15 PM