I could hardly be called a cougar, but I've fallen for a 23 year old young man. Ben grew up in our church and is only a few months younger than Ryan. Always dressed like he came straight from GQ headquarters, he sat with his parents in the same section of the church as we did. Ben's mom and I became church friends, and when she divorced several years after I did, I felt a certain kinship with her-we were two women in a club that no one wants to be in and we certainly don't want our kids to have to be in it. But they are.
Ben was, as my mom would say, a "ring tailed tooter". He didn't get into "bad" trouble, but sometimes crossed that line of smart-aleckness that we adults get tired of. So when he and Ryan were together, which they were quite a bit in junior high and early high school, they were a pair to be reckoned with. Both of them could cross that line and then in the next minute grin and wrap their arms around whomever they had offended and that was the end of that. My sister had had a group of youth at her house for a youth retreat, and after they left, she looked at a brand new heart-shaped candle and there carved in the top were the letters B-E-N. But she just couldn't stay mad at him for long. At another church function, one of our ministers was chewing him out for something and had to turn away to keep from laughing. He's just that kind of kid.Ben took his parents' divorce hard. He started having trouble in school, failed some classes, butted heads with his mom, and ultimately decided, at 16, to go live with his dad in Kentucky. Every time he came home and came to church, he was hugged almost to the point of being smothered. But he found himself, grew up, and got a job in construction in Houston.
And that's when his life--and those of his family--changed forever. He had one of those freak accidents that you hear about but hope to God never happens to anyone you love: while at work, he fell off of a building and landed head first. He was care flighted to San Antonio and his parents were given a grim diagnosis: he would be lucky to survive the night. But survive he did, and he fought through dozens of setbacks, including having a titanium plate put in to replace his missing skull but having to have it removed several days later due to infection and then having to wait several months before it could be replaced. The kid is a fighter. He was in the hospital in San Antonio and a rehab for over a year while insurance companies and his employers fought over who, if anyone, would pay his medical bills. Finally, he was moved to Irving to a neurological rehab facility and after much prodding by my big sister (another subject altogether), I reluctantly went to visit him. I didn't really want to go because I had no idea what to expect and was afraid that....well, I don't have a clue what I was afraid of.
Ben doesn't speak except to say "mama", and has very little use of his right side. He gives a thumbs up or thumbs down for "yes" or "no", rubs his chest for "thank you", and makes kissing noises for "please". He also flips us off and then laughs (we made the mistake of telling him that that means "I love you", so it's a favorite trick of his). He offers us whatever he's eating at the time. He plays games like Connect Four and shows us where to play so that we will win and then starts throwing the pieces at us so that we'll have to pick them up. He grins a lot. He laughs. He never seems sad or angry, but when we start talking about leaving, he shakes his head and gives us a thumbs down. So we count days with him till we'll be back. He certainly is, as his mom says, "still in there".
