Vickie is correct in her story. I remember the perfect bow hanging from the waist, loose but perfect.
I believed that if I yelled really loud he would hear me I just new he could, but no he could not. We would make signs with motion for him to eat, or close our eyes to tell him we were going to bed. We would walk down that lane with the most beautiful trees on both sides making a tunnel when it was full of leaves. He would find Preying Mantis’s and Walking Sticks. Dad could really communicate with him, sign.