My son, Sam, had Down Syndrome. So I started him in school at two and a half months old, so he would not be so far behind the other kids. At four and half, he had open heart surgery, came through like a trooper. When he got older, I always called him my little cowboy, because all he would wear is his red ropers. Then when he went to big school at age three, we bought him two pair of red ropers and one pair of sneakers. Because he would not wear his sneakers, we would send them to school with him.
He did not have any hate anywhere in his body; he loved everyone. He knew no difference and he did not care. One day at school, he got in trouble and his teacher told him, Samuel Adam, go sit in the time out chair. He said fine! When she turned around to leave him there, he call her name and she turned around and he starting singing “you are so beautiful to me.” She busted out laughing and said, “Okay, Sam, that will work this time but don’t think it will again.” When he would see a lady or a girl, he would walk up to her and say, “Hay baby, you want to marry me?”
On November 24, 1998, my son died of leukemia. It killed him in five days. He was twelve years old. This year will be his tenth year to be gone. The year he died, it was two days before Thanksgiving. Everyone who knew Sam thought he was special. He did not have an enemy in the world. At his funeral, there was people standing outside of the funeral home. So the funeral home left the doors open so every one could hear.
He was the light of my life and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. He was a mess; he flirted with every girl he every saw and I think our whole town knew him. We couldn’t go anywhere without someone saying, “Hi, Sam.” Anyway, I just wanted to share my son with you, because everyone has a special child in their life somewhere. Anyone who has a Down’s child, has a child from God. By the way, we buried him in his red boots.