Mary Halfmann Blue Butterfly I regret to inform you that your brother passed away at 1:45 AM.

The last time I saw him was at the Methodist ICU. A nurse stopped me from straightening his fetal positioned body, Just let him be. His dazzling blue eyes faced the boom box, his fingers moved to the bongo beat of Copacabana. He loved that song. I wanted to hear him laugh one more time. Ricky always amazed me by how much he wanted to live despite complications of Downs syndrome. He loved visitors and was the first one to rise and the last one to go to bed. I felt lost and sat outside in the cold Bandera night and mourned into the wee hours of the morning. Before the memorial I sat outside, angry at God and the universe. I wanted to know if my brother was Okay now. I wasnt paying attention to anything besides my grief when I sighted a huge butterfly hover the earth in front of me. He would ascend about a foot, land, move a couple of feet hover then repeat his antics again. I forgot my grief and watched this silly butterfly. I thought to myself, I dont have anything that a butterfly would want here No flowers, no garden. This butterfly must be retarded. Immediately I regretted thinking the R word. The correct term is Special needs or Downs syndrome. I addressed the butterfly, Ricky is that you? The butterfly stopped his senseless hovering and sat a few feet to my left and faced me. A sense of comfort washed over me. I addressed the butterfly softly, Ricky mom always said that she was proud of all of us. Terri was a good engineer, James, a good produce manager, but, you were very good being retarded. After several seconds the butterfly left my side, hovered over the earth a few more times before heading north.