Running my hand along the cool granite, I picture him smiling. I never had the privilege of meeting Jax, but I’ve seen enough pictures to know what that smile would look like.
“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” I whisper. I probably look like a crazy person sitting out here having a conversation all to myself, but I could care less. I firmly believe that Jax was watching over Devin the day of the explosion and again the day Devin coded, so who’s to say he’s not here now? “Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know. But I better get going. Thank you again for everything.”
Jax may have been watching out for Devin, but I know that I have my own guardian angel. Tilting my head to the sky, I give a silent ‘thank you’ to my daddy, the man who has guided me and helped me get to where I am today.
Patting the white headstone twice, I push myself off the ground, realizing for the first time just how hard it’s getting to move around with this rapidly growing belly. It makes me wish that we were back at home in Tennessee—for good. I’m fully aware that right now Devin needs the best care available, and that’s why we’re here. But it doesn’t make me miss home any less, especially with all of the exciting things that seem to be happening without me.
Sean and Maggie are engaged, although they haven’t started planning their wedding, and if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll wait until I get home to help. Bailey is doing well in college and she finally decided on a major … nursing. I was beyond proud when she told me, and I know she’ll make a great nurse. Mom’s been doing well, and has even started taking over care of the horses. I’ve tried to tell her not to, but she’s stubborn and won’t listen. Must be where I get it from. I’ve even gotten the occasional update on Wyatt. It warms my heart to know that he’s moved on, and we’ve even talked on the phone a couple of times. I’m grateful that he was able to forgive me, and he even said that when he had time to sit back and really reflect on things, he realized that the two of us would have never worked. I didn’t push that comment any further, just took it for what it was, but I like knowing that he’s still a part of my life.
A throat clears and I look up. Devin is watching me with open curiosity. He wants to know what I was doing at Jax’s grave, but he’s just going to have to wait. Raising his hand, he motions for me to join them. Not wanting to spend another second apart, I take a step forward … and another … and then another until I’m wrapped in the arms of my forever.
My Best Friend.
My Fiancé.
My Soldier
My Devin.
“This Year’s Love” – David Gray
THE TINGLE TRANSITIONS TO A burn and I slap the end of my right nub several times in a row, dulling the nerve and quieting the pain. It’s the only thing I’ve found that works when dealing with phantom limb pain. The sensation of still having feet, though I no longer do, is still a trip even a year after losing them. What feels like electric shocks surge from my knees down what’s left of each leg, both taken about mid-calf. Most below the knee amputees get up on their new feet in about six months or so, but infections made my wait double that.
Nothing could bring me down right now though. Not the stinging in my legs. Not even the year I waited for this day to come. Nothing. Today, I’m getting my new legs. Today, I feel what it’s like to stand tall again. Today, I heal just a little bit more.
“Baby, does hitting it that hard really help?” Katie’s sweet voice pulls my eyes from my stumps to her curious face looking back at me. I love the way her nose crinkles up when she’s wondering what the hell I’m doing.
“I swear it does. It’s the only thing that works. I’m finding the harder I hit it, the quicker the sensations go away.” I smack my right stump a few more times and shoot a playful smile toward her. “Bad nubbie!”
She rolls her beautiful eyes, and that smile, the one that still makes my heart race, sits perfectly on her face. This journey has not been easy, but with Katie by my side, I’ve learned to fight harder than I ever thought possible. And now with little Jax … God, how that boy has changed me.
As if he knows his dad is thinking about him, he squeals with excitement, throwing his tiny little hands into the air. Katie pulls him tighter into her arms and sits back in her chair. She rocks him sweetly back and forth, his delicate body nestling comfortably against her chest.
He has silky, light brown hair, and each day it looks more like he got his mother’s. I thank the Lord for that. Not that I didn’t like my hair, but you just can’t beat those beautiful locks she has, which are currently held back by a hair tie and falling gracefully down one shoulder.
Just as I catch myself fawning over my beautiful wife, the door swings open and Tom, my prosthetist, comes barreling in, his arms clutching two prosthetic legs … my legs. The sight of them stirs me in my seat.
Tom sets each leg down in front of me and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He’s a heavyset guy, the teddy bear type, and it’s fitting because he is one of the kindest personnel I’ve encountered at this place. The guy genuinely cares about his patients, and it’s made this painfully long wait a little easier. Excitement shines in his eyes, but it pales in comparison to the feeling that overwhelms my body right now. My ridiculous smile must be contagious, because seated just across from me is Katie smiling back so wide my heart might explode at the sight of it. Between us are two bars about waist high that run parallel to each other across most of the room. I’ve never used them before, but I’ve seen other amputees use them when they first start to walk.
“You ready for this?” Tom asks, rhetorically of course, since I’ve been bitching about this day to him for months.
“You bet your ass I am.” I nod toward him and reach for my legs. Tom pulls them back, and the look I give him must actually scare him a little because he places them back down in front of me.
“Now, now Devin, we gotta go over some things first.” I nod in acknowledgment, sitting back in my seat. I shoot him a smirk—I knew it couldn’t be that easy—and wait for him to continue. Katie is looking intently, mentally noting everything Tom says so that she knows what to do when we are back in our little apartment.
The traumatic brain injury sometimes has its way with my short-term memory and Katie has been a godsend during my recovery, remembering medications and appointments, going over medical information with my doctors, all while pregnant with our son. And she was back at it immediately after Jax was born when I went in for my forty-sixth surgery, another irrigation and debridement—the necessary removal of dead or damaged tissue so that the remaining healthy tissue can heal. Three months ago was the forty-seventh—and final—surgery. They closed my stumps for good, which is why I now find myself seconds away from walking for the first time in a year.
“These are test sockets, that’s why they’re clear.” He shows the legs to Katie and me before setting them down again. The sockets are plastic and nearly see-through. “We will have you up on them today in between the parallel bars to make sure you have a good fit. I’ll have you tell me about any hot spots, and I’ll mark them for later.”
“What happens later?” I interrupt, my curiosity getting the best of me. This prosthetics stuff is fascinating, and I soak up all the information he has to give.
“Well, we have what is essentially a heavy-duty blow dryer that heats up the plastic so I can make the necessary changes.” Tom looks at the two of us and waits for acknowledgement.
“So you’ll heat them up today, and then I’ll be walking home, right?” I push.
He looks at me, just for a moment, like I’m absolutely crazy, but I can’t really understand why. I’ve seen enough amputees around the hospital and apartment complex. It doesn’t look that hard.