Nathaniel never met his sister, Naomi. I don’t know, however if they met in Heaven at any time. I only suspect that because he can really be like her sometimes. Naomi was boisterous. She didn’t care a bit about what other people thought of her. She also could fight like a wolverine. It took four nurses and me to put a needle in her once.
Nathaniel is not like any of this. But he is willful. When Nathaniel was younger he got the nickname Pickle for his stubborn and somewhat sour attitude. It wasn’t until he was about three years old that we could understand most of his communication. Until then he could become frustrated when not understood. There is a physical resemblance sometimes. And Nathaniel does things that Naomi did. Yesterday I offered to shake his hand and he gave me his foot. We have a picture of Naomi doing that.
Today he turns seven. Nathaniel is able to say just about every word clearly. He gets along very well with his peers and everyone else. His passion for numbers and memory for freeways is amazing. We still call him Pickle even though he has for the most part outgrown it. But from a sour beginning he has grown amiable to where everyone loves him.
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