That’s Life: Adventurous spirit will help brother-in-law in recovery from back injury

The text from my mother-in-law was direct, though I didn’t see it for hours. My attention was focused on the snow-covered highway and a catch-up conversation with my son.

When we finally stopped for dinner, I assumed Penny was checking in on our travels or finalizing whether they were coming for the holidays.

But her news was much more important.

“A tree fell on Mark, injuring him seriously,” she wrote, jumping straight to the point. My brother-in-law had been airlifted to a hospital in Honolulu. All plans were in limbo in light of this emergency. After conveying the essential details and logistics, she closed as she always does when we talk.

“Love you lots!”

Between the lines of her message, I read the unmeasurable weight of worry. Would he be OK? How soon could she get there to help?

Moments like those distill life. The distractions and details disappear. The only thing left is the people you love.

There’s no sugar-coating the gravity of Mark’s injury just as there’s no knowing how his healing journey will go or where it will end. The tree that knocked him unconscious broke his back, crushing one vertebrae like a pop can and shattering another.

But those who know and love him agree, Mark is going to be OK because he’s facing recovery the way he faces each day, with people who love him and an uncrushable ability to live fully.

Whether he’s making beautiful music, turning his yard into an award-winning oasis, spearfishing a record-setting, 265-pound, yellowfin tuna or hanging out with his family, Mark embraces the moment he’s in and squeezes out every ounce of joy he can.

An adventuresome man, Mark has plenty of interesting and dramatic life stories to tell without adding a traumatic injury to his life story.

In 2012, for example, he had a close encounter with a 16-foot great white shark that tried to swallow an awa he’d caught. Then the creature spit out the fish and came after him. On shore, a family who’d come for an ash-sprinkling memorial watched in horror, then rushed to the water to help him out as soon as he escaped and crossed the reef.

In response, Mark offered the family his awa, which the shark had regurgitated almost unchewed. Even in the adrenaline pumping after-math of a near-death experience, his first act was one of gratitude and generosity.

Though he has many exciting tales that can enthrall anyone around a campfire or dinner table, Mark also has a gift for finding the beauty in small, everyday things, an ability embraced by children but often lost in adulthood.

Like the time during one of our family reunions when we’d all gone for a walk on one of Whidbey Island’s rocky beaches.

“Look at this!” Mark exclaimed, his voice rising in excitement. All the kids (and adults) gathered in a circle to see what he held cupped in his palms. We “oohe-d” and “ahh-ed” and admired, pulled in by his enthusiasm.

Then we scattered, each searching the rocks with new eyes, collecting our own treasures and comparing the colors and markings, marveling at our stones so beautiful and unique.

Mark’s ability to see beauty in small stones is a well-honed skill that I believe will serve him well each step of his recovery.

For five years, I used to write the stories of patients who’d received a medical evacuation by Northwest MedStar or who’d spent time recovering at St. Luke’s Rehabilitative Hospital, sometimes both.

Over that time, I noticed the patients I interviewed had two things in common. They’d all suffered a life-altering medical emergency, and they all searched for something good in the middle of their pain, loss and struggle. Just like Mark.

It’s been one month since an enormous tree uprooted Mark’s life and landed him in the hospital with a broken back, helpless and in excruciating pain.

During that time, he’s worked hard toward recovery, fighting through pain, back spasms and uncertainty as he strives to regain his independence and abilities inch by inch.

This week, he walked a mile and a half in his back brace. He has miles to go in his recovery but that accomplishment, like so many accomplishments he’s made in the past month and so many he will make in the months to come, is a testament to his uncrushable spirit.

Jill Barville writes twice a month about families, life and everything else. She can be reached at jbarville@msn.com.