Too many people go through life complaining about things. Vince, the handsome young man on the left who is looking into the distance future, was not one to complain.
Vince would fall down, a lot, and get right back up, and keep getting up every time he fell down, and he fell down a lot. Why did he fall? He was born with cerebral palsy. It didn’t affect his arms or smarts, only his walking, running, and general balance (and luckily the ability to chase after his smart mouthed brothers the other two guys in the picture). When he was little, Vince wore metal braces on his legs. I am certain they hurt a lot as he wore them. And Vince had the most amazing Frankenstein scars on his legs, the gigantic zipper like ones from surgeries to lengthen his heel cords (a surgeon cuts the heel cord to make it longer then sews you up, puts casts on the legs and keeps you in a wheelchair for a few months until it heals), hip adductor releases (a surgeon cuts into your groin area and snips on tendons to make the muscles longer). Ouch.
That’s me in the middle of the picture. On the left is the oldest of three brothers, Vince. And on the right, the one with the bicycle is my middle brother, Jay. The Airborne Ranger of the three. The bike belonged to young Vince. And sexist as it can sound, the bike was a girls bike, a three speed, with hand brakes, a banana seat and sissy bar. Now I want to add that I had a regular girls bike, a single speed with a pedal brake. It was my first bike. Jay, not sure on the sex of his steed, I think it was a boys single speed bike with a pedal brake.
So, the bike, the girls one with three speeds, hand brakes and a banana seat with sissy bars, that was Vince’s and he rode the dang thing. He learned to ride it without training wheels and never complained when he fell down during the learning curve. And he fell down a lot. In respect to Vince, I need to clarify the term I use: a lot. A lot was bloody at times. Can you imagine having poor balance and high muscle tone in you legs and you are pedaling a three speed girls bicycle and wobbling down a cement sidewalk with your younger brother grasping the back of the sissy bar. The annoying brother is propelling you forward on a frightening path of concrete that hurts when you fall while walking and was much more painful from atop of your banana seat throne. And as he runs beside you until he lets go, the annoying little brother is bugged that you just don’t get how to balance. There is no pity as you fall and I am sure it was painful, frustrating, and frightening. But you don’t complain, you get up and try again.
Too many people go through life complaining about their problems. If they took the energy they use to complain they could solve that problem. We have finite time in life. If you have a goal in life, being jealous of others or complaining about your lot or whining to be heard, it all is a waste of your time to live and enjoy life.