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The first column that ran in
this space was a piece I called “The Slacker.” “The Slacker” was a 17-year-old
friend of my 15-year-old niece who, at first glance, appeared to embody the
worst stereotypes of his generation.
I’ve been further off the mark
but not much. High school studies, a part-time job, and helping his
single-parent father raise two young siblings kept him one busy young man. Most
moving to me was his genuine desire for a strong family in the face of an
unexplained rift with his mother.
Once I got past
the droopy jeans and shaved head, I found an ordinary young man rising to
circumstances with remarkable resolve and got a good, healthy humbling to boot.
The story struck a chord with readers as well, thankfully, or there may not have
been a second.
Life has gone on
for Robin and Mike, though as with many teen relationships they have had ups and
downs. Mike, now 19, finished high school and joined the Navy. He is stationed
on the carrier USS Abraham Lincoln, which I had the privilege of viewing a
couple of years ago when it joined the “Fleet Week” contingent that steams into
San Francisco every fall.
The Lincoln was on
alert for duty in the Persian Gulf during one of our recent chest-thumping
contests with Iraq but was not deployed. Mike knows that could change in an
instant, a burden borne by sailors and soldiers throughout time.
Robin is 17 now,
almost grown. Life was fairly normal these past two years until a fall down the
stairs in her home this January 27. Her brother, the only one home, did not
hear. She drifted in and out of consciousness for an unknown period, finally
managing to open the front door before passing out one last time. A passerby
saw her arm protruding from the doorway and called for help.
She was covered
with contusions, face scrapped raw from chin to forehead. No bones were broken,
but her back, neck, and both ankles were sprained. She suffered jaw trauma, rib
injuries, and a deep bone bruise to one leg. The biggest scare, though, was a
concussion and swelling of the brain.
It is frightening
to think that one so young might never walk normally. It wasn’t her leg or
ankle injuries; doctors speculate it may be the head or back trauma that made
her limbs limp and unresponsive. Yet after a week of initial adjustment, even
confinement to a wheelchair could not dim Robin’s spirits.
She was issued a
walker on February 19, considerably ahead of schedule. With therapy it was
thought she might be able to graduate to a cane in a few months. Despite the
surprising good news, her doctors still could not promise full return of normal
strength and coordination.
Last week Robin
put the walker away. She still hobbles and weaves, however doctors now feel the
outlook is good for a full recovery. Plans to graduate from high school a
semester early next January may have to go on hold, but she remains a truly
lovely girl (no less in my eyes due to her remarkable resemblance to my own
daughter – we carefully label their school pictures so that in 10 years we will
know who was who). Dearer still is her inner beauty, born of faith and
confirmed by spirit.
Robin and Mike
have stayed friends despite growing in different ways. This is not necessarily
a bad thing, even for two good people such as these. I am deeply grateful that
I wound up with my last love rather than my first, and suspect they may feel the
same one day. My old girlfriends surely do.
Growing up is a
wonderful thing; I think everyone should try it. The trials we dread clearly
take their toll, but define and shape us in return. Or perhaps they merely
prove what we already are. Either way, it’s good to confirm again that the
price is worth paying if wisely spent.
© 1997 – 2002 Brent Morrison
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