Hard Lessons Learned
As a boy one of my very first jobs was cutting grass and washing cars in my neighborhood. Unlike most kids, I loved working for money. I loved the idea that I could find something I wanted and the only thing standing between me and that item was some hard work. I use to walk house to house knocking on doors until I finally found someone who would let me work for them.
There were some condos that had just been built around the corner from my house. That is where I would always start because of a very pretty young woman who always let me wash her car. You would think that her looks were the main reason I targeted her first, but you'd be wrong! She let me drive her car from her condo to my house! Plus, I had better cleaning supplies. You have to understand that I was only 13 or 14 years old at the time and the only thing I liked better than girls was cars.
This is where my first of two major life lessons start. On this day, I made my neighborhood rounds and ended up at the condos getting the keys to a really nice black Volkswagen Jetta. After getting it back to my mom’s house, I jumped right in. As always, I was eager to get done so I could get to the hobby store before it closed. The RC car parts were always calling my name.
This day was different because my grandfather happened to be at my mom’s. As a typical grandfather, he watched over me with his hands in his pockets and stance that clearly projected a "been there, done that" attitude. He is a retired coal miner who towers over most adult men, so as a young boy he was a giant. As I rushed through the job I could feel his judgmental stares burning a hole in my back. After a while, I had noticed he had transitioned from an eagle stocking its prey to a cold bottle of water from the fridge inside the garage. That's normal if you’re from West Virginia. I thought this was my chance to get finished and escape before he could judge my work.
Needless to say, as a seasoned hunter he was simply letting me finish before his criticism started. As I was drying the last water spot, I could hear his size 12 shoes walking toward me. I was proud of the job I had done and was ready to be finished. I could smell the money.
As he walked around the car for the final inspection I could tell he was disappointed. As a born negotiator, I knew the only man I couldn’t bullshit was standing between me and my hard earned $35 dollars. He approached me and simply said, “Start over”. You see, while rushing to get the job done I had short cut things. He told me, “if you are going to do a job, it better be right and you can’t quit until it's right”. As I started to fill the wash bucket, out of the corner of my eye I could see him pull a chair from the breeze way and flop down in it. Not only was I doing this job right, but he was now supervising.
I can’t even begin to describe the level of pissed I was. I was a car washing expert. In what world could he judge me? After nearly an additional hour, I was finally done with the car. Although the job was done right my anger quickly grew into embarrassment. I realized the young lady had walked over to claim her car and had been ambushed by my grandfather, who was explaining the poor job I had done and how he made sure it was done right.
As she was driving away I realized I had missed my window to make it to the RC store before its closed. Coupled with the anger and embarrassment I went inside and got washed up for dinner. When I went to bed that night I could have never dreamed that the lesson my grandfather had taught me would help me overcome the biggest battle I would face to date.
June 16, 2009 I lost my leg in a motorcycle accident. It was several days before I was coherent enough to understand the extent of my injuries. I had broken my femur, hip, back and sacrum along with busting my bladder. As a 24 year old young man who had never broken a bone or even had a cavity, I was devastated. I spent several days in ICU and was moved to a regular room where the I was to start the biggest battle of my life.
I have always been someone who was surrounded by people. I say people because as a young man and even an adult it’s hard to decipher a friend from foe. If you're ever curious of where you stand with those around you, cut off your foot and see who it there to help pick up the pieces. Literally. All of my insecurities were put to rest when I saw the amount of people who were there for me as true friends.
About a week into my recovery, and really the first time I could process the events that had happened, I remembered that conversation I had with my grandfather. He drove an hour and a half one way every day to set with my mom and my wife, then fiancé. He mostly sat in the hallway, simply because I think it was painful for him to see me that way. However, this day he was setting next to my bed in one of those hospital chairs that only old people find comfortable and flirting with every nurse that walked in. As he was getting ready to leave for the day, he got up from the chair using my hospital bed rail and his cane to help him gain his balance. My mom and wife had already left the room. He turned, grabbed my hand and said, “you can’t quit, you hear me, we need you”. For what every reason my mind jumped back to that day he made me re-wash that car and I remembered how mad I was at him for not letting me quit and short the work.
I don’t care if you fighting for your life or washing cars for side money, you have to find strength inside of you to not quit, to not give up. Do your very best and walk away knowing you did everything you could. I have lived a life of many regrets, but it took becoming an amputee for me to become the person I always should have been.
Cowboy Up