Jim, we have a timing issue here

Perhaps one of the most advantageous skills one can have is self-awareness in the area of opportunities for improvement. You’ll notice my continued attempt at using more positive language by calling them “opportunities for improvement” rather than “things I struggle with”! Well timing, that is of life-changing decisions, giving my opinions, and perhaps even in my mere existence itself, is not really an inherent strength of mine.

Allow me to expand on that last one. Don’t worry, I’m not having an existential crisis, at least more than usual! As many of More Than a Speed Bump’s readers know I am very close with my mom, a bond that was only strengthened by having her as my primary caregiver after becoming for all intents and purposes a newborn at 24 years old. After my car crash, I was lucky to be welcomed home by my parents. This meant of course that as a wheelchair bound TBI survivor in early recovery without the ability to drive, I spent a lot of 1 on 1 time with my mom. Both my parents have always been extremely active with and supportive of us three kids, but I remember that during that time my dad spent a lot of time on the road working. This left my mom and I having quite a few dinners together. To say we had some in-depth conversations is perhaps the understatement of the century.

Before I go any further, here’s a disclaimer, post brain injury many people lack the verbal filters and can make what some people deem to be inappropriate comments. And as much as I can think that I am not most people, one conversation we had over dinner one night hints at my filer being impaired. When discussing what it was like having two kids within a year, I asked “How come you waited 4 and a half years to have Andy, and if he was a mistake?”

Without hesitation my mom replied, “Do you realize how much work it is to have a baby; there was no way I was having another one that fast. No, Andy was planned, you were the mistake!”

Although I was certainly taken aback, after hearing that I was her favorite mistake I was a bit consoled. Even more settling was that upon returning home and my sharing what my mom had said, my father responded, “Of course that’s not true, your mother wouldn’t let me name Aimee Jim!”

Obviously the above is shared with humor and full knowledge that the timing of my birth isn’t really under my control, with the recounted conversation not really displaying a lack of a verbal filter (at least not mine). In fact, the next example took place about 7 months before I sustained my TBI which kind of blows up my theory that the brain injury causes any of my mistimed or inappropriate comments. But without further ado, let me set the scene:

It was the my senior year of college and I was home for Christmas break of 05’-06’. With Andy’s accident having happened the prior Spring, his settling in to a rehabilitation routine, and our having moved in to a new house after so many years in Atkinson, we all were just beginning to catch our breaths. I don’t recall where we were going, but my father and I found ourselves in the car taking stock of things. About halfway through that Fall semester of my Senior year I had decided to really get serious and focus on what my life after college would look like. Now I thought it was a momentous moment in my life, incredibly mature and responsible thinking on my part, so Dad’s reaction to my news caught me by surprise. After relaying the decision I had just made to get serious, buckle down and focus on my future, we sat in silence for what felt like a solid 5 minutes before he responded:

“You know Jim, that’s good that you’ve decided to get focused and work hard. I realize the last year has been tough for all of us and I’m proud that you went back to school.” And with that small pat on back followed by a long inhale, I saw a rather serious look come upon Big Jim’s face as he lowered the boom. “You do realize that you’re 23 years old, entering the final semester of your Senior year, and just now ‘deciding’ to focus…I’d say we have a timing issue.” I preferred to look at that decision as a prime example of “Better Late Than Never”.