One of the things that always brings a smile to my face is the persistence of my son’s friends.

Some of them were at the ski hill with him the day that he was injured, and witnessed the jump and fall. Phone calls were made, and by the time he was rushed to the hospital in Calgary, there was a crowd of them gathered in the emergency department. Like him, they were so very young and frightened. Many of them had been Christian’s friends for years and I knew their tears were heartfelt. From that evening, through his surgeries, rehabilitation and to this day those friends have remained.

Some families, when faced with a crisis, shut everyone else out. Be careful not to do that. Christian needed reassurance that his friends would not forsake him because he could no longer snowboard or mountain bike. He needed their support, just as much as he needed the love of his family. He wasn’t alone—I will always remember the comfort that they provided to me with their eager, hopeful young faces.

We encouraged them to visit. No one was turned away. On occasion his hospital room was overflowing. He never complained. We had a cot put in his room. Most nights his sister slept there, but if she couldn’t, there was always a friend ready to suffer its bumps and lumps. Peter and I visited every day, with out fail. However, if we were ever delayed, we always knew that there would be someone there keeping him company.

I remember his friend Ethan, who is more Evel Knieval than Florence Nightingale, carefully shaving Christian’s face when he was on his back, immobile. I remember Season, who was terrified of needles, giving him a heperin shot in his abdomen. I remember Mike bringing in balloons to make animals and alleviate the boredom. I remember Kent, Pat and Jeremy challenging him to learn to do a wheelie in an unwieldy hospital chair. I remember Reagan bringing in drawings to decorate his room. I remember Lauren using a catheter as a straw. I remember a lot of laughter.

From the very beginning his friends have challenged him to try harder, to figure out a way. They have never suggested to him that there was an activity he could not join them in. Sometimes I have shuddered when I heard the stories, while at the same time bursting with pride and happiness to know that he remains one of the gang.
Reprinted with permission from www.cripcollege.com





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