Lio Spinelli

As if in a last ditch attempt to keep us in States a bit longer, Lio’s grandmother arranged for nearly a foot of snow to fall during our last two days there. While it didn’t stop Virgin Atlantic it did offer Lio and his cousin Kevin a great opportunity for some sledding and snowman building. It was a lovely way to end an otherwise intense week. All of the doctors appointments went extremely well and it’s always nice to spend time with family back home. Friends made long trips with kids and pets to come and visit us and it was lovely to see Lio at play with them in the wide-open spaces of rural New Jersey. Next time though we’ll schedule less and enjoy more.

When we came back to England we faced the run up to Mothering Sunday. Lio’s teacher, the saintly Mrs. Dumbrell, was a bit worried that Lio might feel somewhat left out with all the other kids making Mother’s Day cards and talking about their mums. So she suggested that the school organize a cake sale to raise money for Sasha’s scholarship fund. We had expected it might raise just £30 or £40 for the fund but when the dust had settled we were all shocked at the total of £250. Almost every family in the school contributed something, from organic, free-range lemon sponges to decidedly delicious but unhealthy chocolate chip cookies (made by Lio and Alice). Kids bought biscuits during playtime, parents bought cakes by the bag-full after school on the playground and I was reminded yet again at the goodness of people and of warm and caring the community around Iford & Kingston CE Primary is. The local paper, which has taken to calling Lio “Lewes’ little miracle,” ran a story about the event after he and I had received the hand-drawn big cheque at an assembly last week. As usual, he’s very keen to show anyone he meets the article with a big picture of him and all his school friends.

We had a bit of set back on Easter Monday. Things had been sailing along so smoothly for months. At physiotherapy I’ve been combing his leg exercises with speech and language exercises and number work; both Niki his physio and I had noticed a tremendous improvement in recent weeks. The length of time he is able to concentrate was also inching up as well and our wrestling was dealing with a lot of his impulsivity. He was enjoying being a six-year-olds in the company of other six-year-olds. On Easter Monday, after snow called an early end to the nice bike ride we were having down by the river in Lewes, we decided to go to the big Victorian aquarium in Brighton with Lio’s neighborhood friend Chrissy. They lapped it up for the first hour, bouncing from touching crabs to imagining what piranhas would do if you stuck your hand in their tank. We were heading to see the shark feeding when the boys dashed off through a long glass corridor under the enormous turtle and shark pool. Lio was trying to catch up with Chrissy when he tripped in the crowd and fell on the corner of one of the wooden benches. He let out one of those shrieks reserved for real pain and blood started gushing down his chin. He had knocked out a tooth and loosened two others. Fortunately the hospital was only five minutes away and they were all baby teeth so there is no permanent damage. But it upset me more than I expected it too. I so want him to have as normal a childhood as possible, to be able to be physical and chase after friends; and, as much as I might want to sometimes, I simply cannot and will not wrap him up in cotton wool. It was just an unfortunate combination of things: having a great time with one of his friends plus some impulsivity plus being a little unsteady on his super-leg plus a large crowd in a zig-zaggy corridor plus a bit of Easter chocolate in the morning equals a trip to Accident & Emergency. Given how much he does and how eager he is to play full-tilt I’d say we’ve done remarkably good job of avoiding trouble so far.

Still, when he smiles now and he laughs with his mouth open I can’t help but wince a bit (though I’m trying very hard to do this internally). One of the things that Lio has going for him is that he is simply a gorgeous child — dozens of people have said so again and again throughout this whole affair. And, now that the swelling has gone down from his lips, he remains a beautiful boy — perhaps a bit more so now when he smiles with his mouth closed. But he had already (naturally) lost his first two baby teeth last year and two of these injured choppers were the next to go. In a year the new ones will be in without too much fuss. And his natural charm will compensate in the interim. But I must admit to still being a bit phased by the whole event. I was spending more and more time every day oblivious to Lio’s “special” status, he was more and more like any other normal child his age. But now, every time he cracks his bashed up smile, it’s hard not to be reminded that we still have things to work on.

Lio, is not at all phased though, his bruised mouth is just another badge of courage for him that he’s proud of on the playground. And apart from the teeth he seems to be showing no other ill effects from his fall. This morning he woke up bright and early as usually, and after some help dressing made his way down stairs, got his violin out and started practicing before I had even made it out of the bathroom. He may still have some issues but tenacity is certainly not one of them. While we were back in the States a few weeks ago, after getting tangled up on a problem in one of his psychometric tests, the doctor complemented him on his effort. Lio said without missing a beat, “You know Dr. Dan, I always try.” I almost teared up with pride.

He’s had lots of opportunity for that charm of his to shine recently in media appearances beyond the local paper. ITV is doing a documentary about lorry traffic on motorways and came down to interview us. Lio shown brightly for them tearing around the medieval priory ruins on his bike and then dazzling them with “Away in a Manger” on the piano — his favourite song to play. The interview was a bit harder for me with the expected emotionally fraught questions about the accident and then struggling to communicate why I wasn’t really interested in blaming anyone in particular, which is not —I think— the response they expected. In the end though I got the impression they were pleased with our contributions. The producers were extremely sweet, so much so they even sent us flowers a couple of days afterwards. While these experiences remain a bit taxing for me, after they’re over I find they put me in a space that I quite like being in. There is something about having to vocalize my memories of Sasha and our lives before the crash that makes the after-the-crash life not simply more bearable (because it is so beautiful in so many ways) but that bridges the divide between them somehow, that helps me remind myself (even as the rest of world so often says the opposite) that Lio and I are the same people.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 26th, 2008 at 9:55 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.