While this book is no misery memoir, it does in subtle tones remind the reader that we all are subject to things over which we have no control. He missed a year to operations, physical therapy, and relearning to walk, but he walked away stronger in body, mind, and spirit. His injuries turned out to be mostly physical, despite the ominous warning from his neurological surgeon. He had been in a devastating car accident, a head-on collision that killed both driver and passenger of the car that hit him. However, before his number ever came up, he found himself in a hospital bed after a week of unconsciousness in the intensive care ward. Through the twists and turns of a young man becoming an adult, the author became subject to the draft lottery instituted to insure the country had an adequate supply of men to fight the North Vietnamese. And the dreams of the child never were completely snuffed out. Over two centuries ago the poet William Wordsworth (“My Heart Leaps Up”) wrote “the child is father of the man.” For the author of this memoir studying the poets of the Romantic era of English literature was the highlight of all his many years of schooling. They gave all three of their children the best education money could buy. Those dreams were deemed insufficiently ambitious to his parents who had experienced the Great Depression firsthand. Even as a little kid the author harbored visions of becoming a writer or perhaps a gym teacher.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |