Tait was autistic. He also had congenital renal problems. Tait had major surgery on his ureters when he was almost two. He was not expected to live to be twelve as his kidneys were so severely damaged - he had about one-quarter normal renal function. Tait was a ‘fighter' and he was here for a reason. He lived nearly twice as long as predicted and fooled everyone!

The name Tait is Scandanavian and means cheerful. He was. The sound of his laughter and the impish glint in his eyes were a joy to experience. He had that elfin quality about him that so many autistic people do. He was quite a teacher even though all the lessons he taught were non-verbal. He taught us patience, flexibility, compassion, perseverance, to see the humor in all situations - even tragic ones. He taught us that everyone is full of spirit and has value. And he taught us so much more.

Everyone who ever met him was captivated by him. A couple of people even named their sons after him. Tait was so endearing because he was a cute little character! When he was about three we went to one of our favorite Mexican restaurants - a very small and intimate "hole-in-the-wall". Tait grabbed the basket of tortilla chips and tossed it into the air causing them to rain down on the surrounding diners. Luckily, his laugh was infectious.

He could be very mischievous and played little tricks on us. He never forgot a face and seemed to like everyone. Tait also had his own vocabulary. We still have no idea what "mine pine kiddee" means. However, we often catch ourselves using other "Tait-isms" in our conversations.

When Tait was fourteen he went to live at the State School. It was a very difficult decision to place him, but it seemed the best thing for all of us at the time. He was quite fortunate to be in a cottage with a very caring staff that remained basically the same in the nine years he was there. (There is usually quite a large staff turn-over at institutions.)

Tait loved gingerbread cookies so I experimented with several recipes, finally combining the best elements from each and came up with one that's especially good. I used to make them for Tait several times a year. At Christmas I always made a double batch so he could share them with his beloved caretakers (those wonderful people deserve a tribute page, too!).

Tait died of kidney failure on Thanksgiving, November 28, 1996. His health started going downhill right after his 23rd birthday October 21. We started visiting him every couple of weeks, then I started going down every week (he was in New Mexico - about five hours away from us in Colorado). The last visit he was very, very sick. I couldn't bring myself to leave when I was supposed to go back to work. So I decided to stay longer.

Tait couldn't eat, threw up whatever he drank several times an hour, and was very weak. He was a real trooper throughout the whole ordeal. I was in his room with him almost all the time. Watching him like that and not really being able to do anything for him except talk to him, clean him up and try to keep a little liquid in him was extremely stressful. The last evening between throwing up sessions he was lying on his side in bed and I was in the chair next to him. He let me hold his hand. We stared into each other's eyes for the longest time - at least five minutes (which is a long time for an autistic person). I can't even put into words what transpired between us except that it was pure love. Not long after that he started being sick again. I was exhausted so I told him good night and that I'd see him in the morning. I told him how much I love him.

I got a call at about 2:20 am that Tait had passed away about ten minutes earlier. Someone came and got me at the motel. I sat in the room with him until after six am when the coroner finally came to take him away. He looked so sweet just lying there as if he were sleeping. He was still warm when I got there. I cut a lock of his hair. By the time they took him of course he was very cold. We knew for a long time that his kidneys would eventually give out, but that didn't make it any easier. We made arrangements for Tait's body to be cremated. Painful as it was to lose Tait it was a comfort knowing he was no longer in pain and was in a better place. His spirit was free to soar!

A few weeks after Tait died, I posted the gingerbread recipe to two mailing lists I'm on and asked everyone to bake them for their favorite people and to think of Tait as they enjoyed them. Many, many people did so. They shared the recipe and Tait's story, too. It's become a tradition now for those folks. I'd like the tradition to spread by making Tait's story and Tait's cookie recipe available to those of you who visit this site. I hope that in some small way Tait's spirit and his appreciation of fine cookies find a place in your heart.

					 
                                                              ---- Tait's Mom
                                                              (aka Mrs. Rumbelly)
                                                              December 10, 1998


TAIT'S GINGERBREAD COOKIES
	
1 c brown sugar                     
1 c white sugar                                        
½ c butter  
½ c applesauce
2 eggs                          
4 c flour
½ c dark molasses               
1 t nutmeg
2 T cinnamon                                
1 t cloves
1 T ginger                            
1/4 t salt
1 t baking soda