Craig played ball for Camden,
starting varsity senior year.
He told me he got good when he learned to slow down
and could see the whole court.
I wish he could have transferred that skill
to the Day Activity Center where he worked
eighteen years with ferocious love,
but was always getting whistled
for reaching in or charging.
He could never let anything go
and there were times I couldn’t stand
to be in the same room with him,
but when he was here the participants got repositioned
and the communication books were written in.
When Tracy hit the side of her head and cried
he stayed right with her and was gentle.
His basketball team never did win the gold ball
and there’s folks in Camden who remember,
“that was a dry spell.” His younger brother won it twice.
But Mona and Sam shuffling down the hallway
everyday ask me, “How’s Craig doing?”
We’re trained not to encourage this.
He was a paid worker.
Now there’s someone else.
Deal with it.