walked—and was mentally delayed, as well. In
adulthood,hecouldhandlebasicaspectsofhislife,but
he needed some degree of structure and supervision.
Whenhewasinhisthirties,SanbornPlaceopenedasa
placeofferingjustthatandhewasitsfirstresident.Over
thethreedecadessince,shevisitedhimalmosteveryday
formostoftheday.Butwhenherfallputherinanursing
home,shewasnolongerpermittedtovisithim,andhe
wasn’tcognitivelydevelopedenoughtoseektovisither.
Theywereallbutcompletelyseparated.Thereseemedno
wayaround thesituation.Despairing,shethoughttheir
timetogetherwasover.Carson,however,hadaflashof
brillianceandworkedouthowtotakethembothin.They
now had apartments almost next to each other.
Justa few yardsaway from where I wastalking with
Ruth, Wayne sat in a wing chair sipping a soda and
watchingpeoplecomeandgo,hiswalkersettohisside.
They were together, as a family, again—because
someonehadfinallyunderstoodthatlittlematteredmore
to Ruth than that, not even her life.
Itdidn’tsurprisemetolearnthatPeterSanbornPlacehad
twohundred applicantsonitswaitlist.JacquieCarson
hopedtobuildmorecapacitytoaccommodatethem.She
was, once again, trying to maneuver around all the
obstacles—the lack of funding, the government
bureaucracies.Itwilltakeawhile,shetoldme.Sointhe
meantimeshe’screatedmobileteamsthatcangooutto
helppeoplewheretheylive.Shestillwantsto makeit
possibleforeveryonetoliveouttheirdayswhereverthey
can call home.