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We cannot learn without pain. – Aristotle
In a recent post, I told of some of the mishaps of my youth. A broken nose. A broken rib. These mishaps were accidental, of course. Lessons learned. I did continue to play softball that year. Even went to the state tournaments. I only played with my head turned about 75% of the time. I’m sure I climbed more trees after falling and breaking a rib. I’m also sure that I didn’t use a highchair or anything to climb one. I’m also guessing that I had no doubts about the state of the limb I was hanging on. I bet everyone of them were very much alive.
What I didn’t tell you were the extremes I would go to in order to fit in with those that I needed to be a part of. I don’t remember how old I was when the following happened. I know it was well before the breaking of the nose.
My cousin used to live a couple of lots away from a small wooded area. We knocked around in those woods so many times. On many occasions we would be proving our strength to each other by knocking down 1″ diameter dead trees. We were tough I tell ya!
On this particular day my family went to visit his family. My cousin and I decided to take his brother’s BB gun to the woods to shoot…things. It was one of those pump 10 times BB guns. It was sweet! I’m not sure, but I think our folks even allowed it.
We headed off in the direction of the woods and my cousin started telling me about this club he and some friends had started. Well, I just had to become a member of this club. It was very important for me to be a part of it.
I asked how I could be a part of it. Well, the initiation to this club didn’t sound all that pleasant but he assured me that all of them had already done their initiation and were full fledged members. If I wanted to become a member, I would have to let him pump the BB gun 1 time and shoot me in the foot! Or was it 5 times? Shoot. I can’t remember. Really, I don’t think it matters.
Either way, it did sound bad, but not that bad. Not bad enough for me to say no. After much deliberation. Much nervousness. Much assurance from him that everything would be fine. It barely even stung, he said. I had to be in this club. I said ok. Yeah. I know, right?!?
So we stopped our journey. Close to the woods and out of sight from the folks. He pumped the bazooka 1 time. Aimed at my foot.
I closed my eyes. I waited for the click. The sting of the BB bouncing off my foot. How bad was it going to hurt? Doesn’t matter. I gotta be tough. No crying!
**PFFFTTT*
It felt like a tree landed on my foot. Or maybe my ankle had stopped a small 18 wheeler in it’s tracks. It did not sting, at all. Nope. It hurt like nobody’s business!
“OWWWW!”
I think that’s what I said. Ow. Ow. Ow. I said as I was jumping around, on one foot mind you, trying not to cry. The pain was excruciating. He was helping by trying to make me laugh make me forget. It didn’t work.
I looked down and sure enough, right there in my foot was a little red dot. No, wait. It was a little bright red spot. A hole is more like it. About the size of a bb right there in the top of my foot, where it bends.
Bleeding and hurting, I limped back to his house. I don’t remember if I cried or not. But it didn’t matter. I was now in the club. Hobbled, but in the club.
Now we had to come up with something to tell the folks. They can’t know about the club. So, the only thing that made sense was what we told them.
We were hunting squirrels and I got shot in the foot. Yep. Genious! It apparently worked. But now there was the issue with a BB stuck in my foot.
Well, there is so much more to this story. I’ll not bore you with it tonight. Let’s just say it involves an ER visit. Them taking the BB out. The anesthesia wearing off before they got the BB out. The rest of the story involves a lot of pain.
Later in life my cousin told me that the club didn’t exist. He didn’t get shot in the foot and he probably pumped the gun about 15 times.
It is a funny story later in life. But as of late it has made me wonder, why? Why was I so gullible? Why would I let things like that happen to me? All through my school years, I wanted to fit in about that bad. Why? How much of that type thinking brought me to my drinking thinking?
I don’t have the answers. I’m still looking for them. Probably will until the day that I go to my grave. What’s my lesson to be learned from all of these thoughts?
Because of HIM
SC
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6 Comments
Who were you before you were mine? Do you have another set of parents? This MAMA did NOT allow you to “go hunting squirrels” or anything else in the woods with a bb gun! What I remember is, your last set of parents didn’t know why you could not walk very well (we were visiting my grandparents when the hobbling started). In fact, I don’t think we knew there was a bb gun involved until the doc extracted the bb. Also, I think there may have been numerous “stories” told regarding the INCIDENT before we got to the truth. We do have the truth now don’t we? Also, in your parents defense, you were/are perfect! I didn’t think it necessary to tell you certain things in life. I guess I thought you read the manuel that came with you when you were born. The title? The Game of Life.
Follow the leader is a good game if you are the leader! Take the time to “read the BOOK to your children- – - they won’t read it for themselves either. Involve them in situations where you are in control, but allowing them to make decisions based on possible outcomes you all have discussed before hand. One option, when watching a movie, pause it at a “teachable moment” and discuss, “what if”. But, I’m sorry to say, even doing the best you can do as a Dad, they will still, at some point in life, SHOOT THEMSELVES IN THE FOOT!. Your AIM is to keep it from being FATAL.
MOM
I have great compassion for that little boy. I probably wouldn’t have said yes, but I sure would have been lonely. I’ve had my share of loneliness.
Jean Browman–Cheerful Monk’s last blog post..Taking Delight in Little Things
Oh Scott I love this post. You were a kid. A boy at that. I was a girl and I did crazy things to fit in. Believe it or not I would challenge others to a tree climbing contest. Look back with happiness that you were shot in the foot. You lived to tell a happy story from it.
Reflection is such a hard thing. Sometimes we dig deep trying to go back to a point in time in which we think we got off track. Remember their are no bad tracks that we cannot alter and take a different course. Different paths lead us to a different place each time. Savor this moment as a blessing not as a “something was wrong with me” way of thinking.
I believe the post above is from your Mom (Nancy). She speaks so much truth here. “Follow the leader is a good game if you are the leader.” Well, you are now the leader of your life. You have placed your faith in God. Move right along and live your life the way you have been given a chance too. Teach your children what you have learned.
I think it is great that you were all boy. You know you could look at the story another way. You were tough. You were strong. You endured pain for the reward. Apply that to your life today. See, there are always two sides to a story Scott.
Have a wonderful weekend.
Cricket’s last blog post..I Have a List
@nancy – That’s my story and I’m stickin to it
That’s the way I remember it. I do remember taking the BB to Ma and Poppy’s and showing it to Mark and Terry.
@Jean – I’m sure if I think more on this I too would find that even after all the fitting in, I would find something that was missing. Quite possibly even a lot of loneliness.
@Cricket – I guess I was searching for more of the “Why did I become an alcoholic?” Yeah, I do/did see it as something was wrong with me, and you are right. It is just another lesson learned and apparently something great is or has already come from this mishap. Or, maybe not. I suppose it doesn’t really matter for what lies ahead.
Yep, that’s Mom. Sometimes she is pretty smart. She has a heart of gold plated gold. I’ve never been a leader. I don’t know how to lead. I guess it’s one of the big reasons why I feel as though my wheels are just spinning with this career change. Like, I’m following God and I’m waiting for him to push me or lead me there instead of me taking some initiative and taking a leap of faith.
I really like your side of the story. Much brighter than mine was. Thanks, Cricket.