Five Years to Live

by Frank Zaccari

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’ve never been down this path, thank God. The most important thing that I can think of is that you and Tim keep life as normal as possible for Michelle and Courtney.”

  Michelle and Courtney were adjusting fairly well to their parents’ divorce. Having both parents and two sets of grandparents that loved them and lived in the same small town certainly made things easier. Tim, Donna, and the grandparents had all met and agreed to do whatever was necessary to make life as normal for the girls as possible. They lived with their mother, and every other weekend they would stay with their dad. Every Sunday found them at one or the other grandparents’ house for Sunday dinner and family events.

  The two sisters discussed this matter often. “You know, Michelle, it really doesn’t seem much different with Mom and Dad divorced, except Dad doesn’t come home.”

  Her sister replied, “He wasn’t home that much the last couple years anyway.”

  “Do you think one of them was having an affair?” Courtney asked.

  “I really don’t think so. At least Mom told me that wasn’t a reason why they split up. She told me sometimes parents get so involved with day-to-day life that they don’t make time for each other, and one day you wake up and your husband is a stranger.”

  “I’m never letting that happen to me,” twelve-year-old Courtney said empathically.

  “Me either,” Michelle said sadly. “At least they never yelled and screamed at each other. I’ve never heard Mom say anything bad about Dad. I’ve heard her cry at night, but when I asked her what’s wrong, she just said she was sad.”

  “I came home one day and could tell she had been crying, and she said the same thing. I asked Dad if they were going to get back together. He said he didn’t think so, but he didn’t say why.”

  “You know what is going to be weird, Court, is if Mom and Dad start to date again. I mean, that would be so strange in this city since we know everyone.”

  “I know. Diane Walker said her mother started to date again. That will be so embarrassing. I just can’t imagine them with someone else.”

  For two years neither Tim nor Donna dated anyone. Donna focused on her job and being involved in every one of her children’s activities. One night, while helping Michelle with a research paper, Donna Googled Michael Battaglia. At first she wondered if he had died. She was both shocked and surprised to read the ten pages of data highlighting Michael’s achievements and accomplishments. Wow, she thought, with everything he had to go through, look at all he has done. She found herself looking to see if he had ever married. Maybe I should give him a call someday, but she didn’t act on that thought.

  In addition to her work with brain injury patients, Mary Battaglia opened a family counseling business. Michael ran her back office. Given all his experience in dealing with insurance companies, Michael made sure the various insurance carriers paid Mary, plus he kept her books, did her taxes, and handled her schedule. People marveled at his schedule and stamina. “Michael makes able-bodied people tired,” said a friend, Richard Howe, who was disabled himself and served as the assistant attorney general for the state of Arizona. “I am busy as hell with my one job, but Michael runs Mary’s business, runs Abilities Unlimited, works with high school students at the Casa, sits on the Planning Commission, runs the ASU volleyball booster group, runs and sponsors a team with the Challenger Sports program, is an outspoken leader and advocate for the disabled, and still has time for family and friends.”

  Michael laughed at Richard’s comment and replied, “What are you talking about, Rich? You have suffered from cerebral palsy your whole life. You have difficulty walking, at times your speech is difficult to understand, yet you made it through law school, you are the assistant attorney general of the state, you have argued in front of the United States Supreme Court, someday soon you will be a judge, and you think my schedule is crazy?”

  “Michael, I have dealt with my disability my whole life. I have never known anything else. I knew my limits from childhood and set my hopes and dreams around my limitations. What amazes me about you is you spent twenty-four years as an able-bodied person. You had plans and dreams that were taken from you. You had to relearn everything and you have accomplished more in your short time in the wheelchair than most people can even hope to achieve. How do you do it?”

  “There are things in life we simply can’t control. When I was at Magee, I saw many people who just gave up. Most of them died within five years. They simply lost their will to continue. They let their circumstances win. I had one friend there whom I thought had it together. I thought he would achieve greatness, but one month after he left Magee, he took his own life. I swore on that day that I would never give up or give in to this injury. I never accepted what the doctors told me about what I couldn’t do. Maybe it’s my stubborn Italian background, but I will not let anyone or anything dictate my limitations. My brother Joe sent me a quote one day that said, ‘There are so many people out there who will tell you that you can’t. What you have to do is turn around and say, ‘Watch me.’ That’s what you and I have done.”

  Richard smiled. “In my case, I knew I would have to make it on my own. I only had my mother growing up. My father left shortly after I was born. I guess he couldn’t deal with the situation. I just figured that I probably would never get married. I would never have a partner to share my life. I’m not complaining that I am all alone. I have my friends, and your family has basically adopted me.”

  Michael laughed and said, “Yeah, we have. You are my brother Tom Hagen, like in The Godfather .”

  They both laughed. “You know what I mean, Michael. I hope someday we both find someone who can see past the disability and limitations.”

  “I know what you mean, Rich. I have a large number of female friends, but they are just friends. I value their friendship and companionship, but it’s not the same as having that one special woman. That woman who you know is going to be there regardless of what happens. That one woman to whom you can and want to give your heart and soul.”

  “Do you think that woman is out there, Michael? I mean, let’s face it, we have a lot of baggage and shit for someone to deal with.”

  “I believe that someone is out there, Rich, but until she arrives we have to do what we have to do. I stay busy so I don’t have the time to wallow in self-pity. If it happens, that’s great; if not, I don’t want to live my life with any regrets.”

  Chapter 21

  Sometimes the Circumstances

  Win

  Michael returned the phone to its cradle. The voice from his long lost past shook loose the cob-webs in his mind, and soon Michael was lost in the attic of his memories. Suddenly he found himself transported from Phoenix to Philly. He remembered his old friend. He could almost see him sitting there as he said, “We are all going through our own grieving process. It is different for each of us. Some days you will be in denial, other days you will be angry and full of resentment, and maybe someday depressed and suicidal. Yes, you will become bitter if you chose to go down that path. But don’t do it, Mikey. It’s a trap. Wallowing in the pity showered upon you by others is more debilitating than your accident. Granted, there are some things you will never be able to do. Accept the help graciously and gratefully but reject any pity. As a matter of fact, live your life so that people not only won’t pity you but they can’t pity you because they want to emulate you.”

  His sister Mary came into the room and asked him, “Michael, who was on the phone?” But he was lost in deep thought, thoughts that he could not express because he could not find adequate words. Mary waited a moment and then became concerned. She asked again, “What’s the matter, Mikey?” This seemed to connect, and Michael snapped back to conscientiousness like someone coming back from a hypnotic trance.

  “That was Bill Bradley, my old friend from Magee,” he finally said. “He is very sick. He has been diagnosed with kidney failure. He wants me to do him a favor.”

  E-mail from Bi
ll

  -----Original Message-----

  From: Bill Bradley

  To: Michael Battaglia

  Sent: Dec. 12, 2000

  Subject: Do me a favor

  Mikey, like I told you on the phone, I have been diagnosed with kidney failure. In the New Year I start dialysis and we will see how that goes. But just in case things don’t go as I plan, I would like you to do me a huge favor. My kids are six and three, and there are some words of advice I would like to pass onto them. If I am not around, could you make sure they get this email. I would have my wife do it but she has enough on her plate with my illness.

  Dear Ethan and Gavin,

  Let me begin by telling you that I love you more than you will ever know. The days of your births are counted as the two greatest of my life. My mother used to say, “You think you love your parents, and you do. And you think you love your husband or wife, and you do. But you really don’t know what love is until that doctor puts that little bundle of joy in your arms and says, ‘It’s a boy,’ or, ‘It’s a girl.’” You know something; she was absolutely right. So listen to your mother and your grandmother. Honor them and treasure them all the days of your life. Pass on the inheritance of love, values and integrity that they give you, to your own children and make sure it is just as pure and unblemished as it is today.

  I earnestly wish I could have known the men that you have become but of course my physical presence will never again feel the warmth of your smile or the tenderness of your embrace. My only hope is that through these words you know that I am smiling and that you feel my tender embrace and guidance. There are a few things I want you to know and I hope you take it to heart as I pass on these thoughts to you through space and time.

  Success does not belong to those who never failed. Burn these words into your brain and heart, success belongs to those who never stop trying. Calvin Coolidge said, “Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.” When despair threatens persistence, where tragedy declares war on endurance and when reality and dreams collide, these are the moments that we measure not victory or defeat but rather the affect the battles have on the persistence, endurance and dreams of the individuals.

  We must nurture these elements with every cell of our humanity. Greatness is achieved by taking those moments and turning them into a stepping stone and not letting them become stumbling blocks. Your strength will not come from lifting weights, but from lifting yourself up every time you are knocked down.

  What can I tell you about love that hasn’t been said already? For thousands of years philosophers have tried to define it, poets have tried to describe it and jewelry companies have tried to sell it. I am not sure it can be defined or described, and it definitely cannot be sold. As far as love I say embrace it, experience it, choose it. It is not always easy but it is always worth it. It is the only thing worth living and dying for. I think Mother Teresa has it right. She said, “You and I have been created for greater things. We have not been created to just pass through this life without aim. And that greater aim is to live and be loved and we cannot love unless we know. Knowledge always leads to love and love to service.”

  Remember this; the people who are the hardest to love are usually the ones that need love the most. Like Wayne W. Dyer wrote in There’s a Spiritual Solution to Every Problem, “Love and love alone dissolves all negativity, not by attacking it, but by bathing it in higher frequencies, much as light dissolves darkness by its mere presence.”

  As for romantic love, there you should be more selective. Be as sure as you can that the person you marry will be sitting by your bed when you take your last breath just like your beloved mother is willing to do for me. Please remind her how much I love her. And just for the record, sex is not love. Sex is an expression of love and that is the only time you should express it—when you are in love.

  Don’t be afraid to be different. Just as Dr. Denis Waitley says in his book Seeds of Greatness, “Be different, if it means higher personal and professional standards of behavior. Be different, if it means being cleaner, neater, and better groomed than the group. It is always better to arrive at a function looking slightly better, than slightly worse than the others. Be different, if it means to put more time and effort into all you do. Be different, if it means to take a calculated risk. The greatest risk in life is to wait for and depend upon others for your security. The greatest security is to plan and act and take the risk that will make you independent.”

  Become uncomfortable at creeping along as average. Be afraid to be average. The average person does not stay married. The average person does not stick to a diet. The average person does not stay on an exercise program, and the average person gets knocked down and stays down. Don’t be average. Arm yourself with these words from Charles Fletcher Lummis, “I am bigger than anything that can happen to me. All these things, sorrow, misfortune, and suffering, are outside my door. I am in the house and I have the key.” Go forth with this seed of inspiration firmly planted into the fertile regions of your mind, “If ye have faith...nothing shall be impossible unto you.” (Matthew 17:20) However, if your faith is shaken or weakened, which may and probably will happen often when you are pursuing a worthwhile goal, just keep hope in your heart and say to yourself over and over again, “It’s possible. It’s possible.”

  And I want you to know that there is nothing on this earth that I love more than you two boys. You are the reason I crawl out of bed each morning. You are the concern that keeps me tossing and turning at night. You are the smile that returns to my lips when I think of you even during my most challenging days. You are the tear of pride and joy that rolls down my cheek when I put you to bed in the evening. You are my breath, my heart, my courage. You are every wishing star that I wish upon, you are every prayer that I pray, you are every dream that I dream and every check that I write.

  My friend Michael Battaglia will be delivering this message to you at a time and matter that he will determine. He was a dear friend of mine, a noble, honorable man. Make sure you thank Mr. Battaglia for me.

  Love,

  Dad

  Bill’s funeral was difficult for Michael. After Magee they wrote or called each other frequently. As time moved on, as it usually does, the two comrades moved on as well. Over the last several years, their contact had been limited to a card at Christmas and maybe a phone call on their birthdays. But Bill’s wisdom was the cornerstone upon which Michael had built his life. Bill’s words were the ambient atmosphere of Michael’s world, the fuel of his existence. As he wheeled himself toward the cactus garden in his backyard, Michael was reminded of Bill’s good-bye speech when he left Magee .

  Someone had asked, “So, Bill, what are you going to do now?”

  “I am going to build a raised garden in my backyard, one that I can work from my wheelchair. I love gardening. I will be out there planting seeds, watching for new growth, plucking away spent flowers, and pruning away dead and unwanted leaves and branches so that new blooms can sprout. I just love it.

  “Do you know the secret of good gardening? It is knowing when to water and when not to water. You can kill a plant with too much attention. It is a delicate balance. You need a little stress. That makes the root work harder to search for water. Once the roots are strong, you have a healthy plant. But too much stress can kill our little friends. You really have to pay attention because they may look okay, but the roots might be too overworked, too stressed.”

  Suddenly everyone realized that he wasn’t talking about plants anymore, but only Bobby King murmured, “Like Nunzio.”

  “I won’t make that mistake again.” Then he told the group, “Bloom where you are planted. You are not a pansy; you do not need a specific climate or environm
ent to show the world your beauty and magnificence. You have good roots. Like James Allen once wrote, ‘As in the rankest soil the most beautiful flowers are grown, so in the dark soil of poverty the choicest flowers of humanity have developed and bloomed.’” Then he added, “SO BLOOM!”

  In a world sometimes bereft of integrity, Bill was the shining model for Michael. And although he was sorrowful, he could find no pity in his heart for his dear friend because Bill was someone that Michael always wanted to emulate.

  A couple of weeks later, the phone rang again at Michael’s house, and an old, familiar voice said, “Hey, Buddy, how you doin’?”

  That was all Michael needed to hear. “Jerry, how the hell are you doing? It is so great to hear your voice again. It has been...what...eleven years?”

  “Wow, has it been that long? I remember, it was around 1990. I was about to run up the Sears Tower in Chicago. I was trying to draw attention to the American with Disabilities Act. After the Rocky Run, I got a sponsor and I started running up skyscrapers all over the place.”

  “I remember,” Michael said in a very impressed tone of voice, “you became pretty famous, especially after you were the first double amputee to climb Mt. Everest.” Michael’s voice lowered to a sober tone as he said, “I suppose you heard about Bill.”

  “What happened to Bill?” Jerry asked, fearing the answer.

  “He died two weeks ago,” Michael replied. “Kidney failure. The diabetes finally caught up with him. He was on dialysis and it just weakened him too much.”

  After a long moment of silence, Jerry recovered from the news only to be able to say, “I am sorry. I didn’t know. I feel terrible that I wasn’t there.”

  “His wife is taking it pretty hard,” Michael added.

  “Could you give me her address? I will send her a letter.” Jerry said again, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I should have been there.”