Bill is 82 years old, he had a debilitating stroke last year and came to live in the Mansion. He needs extra care.

The stroke was devastating for him, and for many reasons. Bill is gay, and so far as he knows, he is the only gay resident of the Mansion. His gay identity is very important to him.

He yearns for his community, as well as for the things he has lost, at least temporarily: some of his memory, his ability to read and write and walk without the pain in one leg.  “Its hard, I feel like I’ve lost everything,” he says, “and I miss my community, I miss the gay people in my life.”

I’m working to help Bill, I think this is something can do.  I tend to see things like this as a creative challenge. Let’s see what we can do.

There is something both awe-inspiring and exhilarating about helping someone to rebuild their lives. I am not a doctor or therapist, but i can encourage him and provide him with some of the tools he needs. And hopefully, I can connect him with members of his community.

This is difficult and somewhat daunting – it is a difficult thing to do, especially with someone who is unhappy and is struggling to reclaim the things he lost, including the full control of his mind and faculty. it is easy for me to talk with Bill, not always easy for him.

We spent a few hours this week butting heads, he is willful, but so am I. And Red lightens things up.

Bill is very fortunate in at least one way, he said, he is very close to his daughter, who lives an hour away, she is his best friend.  She is very supportive of him. Bu he needs his community back. or at least back in his mind.

Yesterday, we took the first step together towards re-building his life. I brought him a CD player and three mystery audio books from the mystery writers Ken Patterson and Ken Follett.

Because he can’t read the way he used to, he refused audio books at first. He wants it to be the way it was.

I persuaded him to try listening to audio books, he loves mysteries. He refused at first, saying he only wished to read the way he used to, but yesterday, I sat with him for an hour or so and played the audio tapes and  he listened for a bit.

I could see this was making him anxious, but he was also pleased and excited. He said he would try using them. He is a little concerned about navigating the CD player.

I wrote about him on the blog and also contacted some friends in  Cambridge who are gay. Other saw my writing about Bill on the blog and contacted me.  His request to see other gay men and women is circulating through the vibrant and well established gay community here. They are planning to come and see him.

Some high school students, members of a new gay and straight club forming in the school, are talking about visiting  Bill. Gay readers of my blog are sending him letters and messages of support and connection.

This is complicated new terrain, Bill is not a simple man, and he is struggling with all of the myriad emotional issues that often accompany strokes. Some days, he doesn’t even want to get dressed.

It will not be simple process or move in a straight line. It will take a lot of patience and will all around. The staff says Bill is more upbeat and animated this week than they have yet seen him, and I believe he is uplifted by the attention and the possibility of connecting with his community again. He needs to feel some hope for his future.

It is very important to him to be around people who he feels are like  him. He is also profoundly discouraged by what has happened to him. He spends a lot of time telling me what he can’t do now, and we are now talking about the things he might do and can still do. He is bright, animated, eager for conversation.

In this work, I never play God, or take over anyone’s life or presume to save people. In this work, it is just as important to know what you can’t do as what you can do.

That is up to the people themselves.  I can’t make Connie walk, that is up to her.

Sometimes, and with the support of many of you out there, I try to fill in the holes, provide the tools of connection and stimulation. So I’m moving slowly and deliberately, Bill wants to move slowly and is easily overwhelmed. He is also often discouraged or depressed, as one would expect.

Bill is usually lying in bed when I come to see him, he rarely participates in the Mansion’s many activities. He sometimes resists the idea of better days.  He likes conversation. We do like to talk to one another, he loves Red, our visits are lively and engaging, he likes to argue with me. Our visits work.

It’s hard for him to take walks now because one of his legs is hurting So first the letters from gay men and women will arrive. Hopefully, he will also re-discover his joy of reading through the CD player and the audio tapes (I brought him a few).

Next week, if things come together, he will be receiving some visitors from gay people in the area, a number have contacted me, thanked me for helping Bill, and said they are planning to come.

So I’m hopeful. One step at a time, move slowly and carefully, Bill has to move at  his own pace and in his own way, not mine or anybody else’s. He is at work at re-building the life that was taken away from him last year. He is looking for the support of his community – today, a Mansion staffer is driving him to Albany for the Gay Pride Parade there.

We’ll see what happens. I’m committed to helping Bill work to re-build his life, and grateful for your support, as usual. Bill is eager to get letters from members of the LGBT community, you can write him at this address: Bill, The Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. And thanks.