Caution Curve Ahead

On one of my recent jogs, I noticed a "Caution Curves Ahead" sign just west of St. Christopher's Mission. For almost 30 years I have run along that road, and guess I have seen the sign so often it no longer registered in my consciousness. The sign took me back to a different lifetime, before Barry called me from a dangerous place on the north side of the Abajo Mountains. It was the afternoon of September 7, 2004, and the trading post had been relatively slow that day, so I was rattling around the store trying to decide how to spend the rest of my afternoon.


Sign Post in Bluff, Utah.

The tone of Barry's voice let me know we had hit a dangerous curve and had not navigated it well. Like many signs, this one had been ambiguous; the curve had come quickly and with inadequate notice. Spenser had been gravely injured, and his fate was uncertain. As I wandered around the trading post, waiting for additional signs, my heart realized a new kind of fear, and my head spun trying to find a way to ensure a favorable result. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be completely and absolutely helpless. Happily, the worst case scenario was not our lot, although it would take many long days and far too many close calls to be sure.

I thought of that cautionary sign again last week when Spenser returned to work at the trading post for the first time in what seems like an eternity. Since it was Spring Break, Barry brought Spenser to Bluff. Although he is still struggling with some residual effects of the accident, each time I see Spenser I feel an overwhelming emotion of gratitude. Gratitude for whomever and whatever allotted him additional time to spend with us, gratitude that he is so very much the young man we knew before the accident, gratitude that his hard work has allowed him to return to a normal life and gratitude for all those who stood by us as he struggled to survive.

To be sure, there are some changes, but as I watched Spenser move around the trading post, straightening the inventory and vacuuming the floor, I could not help notice the similarities between the old and the new. He is still the bright, thoughtful kid who chased lizards on the porch prior to September 7th. Although his personality has changed somewhat, I wonder whether the shift in attitude is, to a large extent. associated with his movement into the teen years. His newfound sassiness is in many ways refreshing, and may serve him well later in life. I found myself chuckling at the ongoing verbal jousting between Barry and Spenser, and wondering what will be my lot when Kira and Grange become teenagers.

Although he does not move as quickly as he used to, which for now translates into more security for the porch reptiles, that may change. The progress he has made is nothing short of a miracle. Being a member of his high school tennis team seems to have helped regenerate the mobility of his left side, and given him a great deal of confidence. I was amazed how well he maneuvered the vacuum, and thought of offering him a permanent spot on the trading post cleaning team, jersey and all. I am afraid, however, any such offer will be rejected, and Priscilla, Barry, Jana and I will have to continue cleaning the carpet and rearranging display cases.

It appears Spenser may emerge from his incident better and stronger in many important ways. The curves we fail to navigate as anticipated have a way of changing our lives in unexpected ways; ways that can take years to fully understand . I know my life is different; hopefully it is a positive and permanent change. For me, those "Caution Curve Ahead" signs have acquired new meaning.

With Warm Regards,
Steve, Barry and the Team.

Copyright 2005 Twin Rocks Trading Post