Straight Paths: Sticks and Stones

Sticks and Stones

Loren Hardin

For The Ashland Beacon

             This is part one of a two-part series about Thomas, who was in his early fifties, and residing in a long-term care facility, when he enrolled in hospice services with end-stage non-alcoholic cirrhosis. During my initial social work visit Thomas lamented, “It’s difficult knowing that I will probably never leave this place.” When I commented on the stacks of books beside Thomas’ bed, he explained, “I love to read. Reading enables me to escape; it carries my mind to places other than here.” Thomas’ favorite authors were Stephen King and James Patterson. Thomas asserted, “Stephen King is a genius”.  

            Thomas was well-read and articulate, but he also seemed to have a chip on his shoulder, which became understandable as Thomas shared his story. Here’s Thomas: “I was born in Georgia. Dad was in the Army and had been overseas. When he returned, he finished out his last six months in Georgia, and then we moved to Jackson, Ohio where my mom had family.

            “I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease when I was nine, and it was full blown by the time I was ten or eleven. It was difficult for me to have a normal childhood. I couldn’t participate in extracurricular activities like the other kids, because I would be hospitalized for weeks and sometimes months at a time.” 

             But as a young boy Thomas found enjoyment in spending time with his father. Thomas reminisced, “Dad was a dragracer, and I loved to go to the races with him. Dad had a 1974 Dodge Challenger with a custom paint job and engine. Dad did a quarter mile in 10.5 seconds.

As soon as we got close enough to the track for me to smell the racing fuel, I said to myself, ‘I’m home’. I can still smell it.”  

            Thomas also found solace in assembling and painting model cars. Thomas explained: “My favorites were the die-cast metal ones, both the 1/25 and 1/15 scale. I had a tackle box full of Tester paints and supplies. I painted with an airbrush, and I had horsehair brushes with only three or four bristles in them for fine details and pin stripping. I even stripped copper wire and used the copper strands as spark plug wires. I would lay newspapers down on the kitchen table and sit for hours. I loved it. I finished at least a hundred cars but the car I’m proudest of is the one I did for Dad. Dad sold his Challenger after her stopped racing, and I knew he missed it. So, I ordered a diecast 1974 Dodge Challenger and customized it to look exactly like dads. It took me two months to complete it. Dad cried when I gave it to him. It was dad’s crown jewel.” 

            Back to the reason for the chip on Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas elaborated about his childhood challenges with Chron’s disease, “When I started school, I had a letter from my doctor explaining my condition, that because of my Chron’s disease, I needed to be able to just raise my hand and immediately leave the classroom to go to the bathroom. The principal and the teachers honored it. I don’t know why but I was bullied physically and verbally ever since kindergarten. The other kids made me feel like I didn’t deserve the oxygen I breathed. So, I became depressed and suicidal.” Then Thomas raised his right arm to show me the scars from cutting his wrist and said, “That’s something a nine-year-old should never have.” 

            Thomas and I talked about how the childhood retort, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” is a lie. Thomas asked, “Do you like country music? There’s a song by Tracy Lawrence titled ‘Sticks and Stones’, that tells it like it really is, ‘These sticks and stones may break me, but the words you said just tore my heart in two’”.  Thomas declared, “Now that’s the truth.” 

            The Apostle Paul instructs us to, “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification, according to the need of the moment, that it will give grace to those who hear,” (NASB, Ephesians 4:29). Jesus warns, “I tell you that every careless word that people speak, they shall give an accounting for it in the day of judgement. For by your words, you will be justified and by your words you will be condemned,” (NASB, Matthew 12:36-37). And in the words of my wise departed friend, Charlie, “You better make sure your words are sweet because you might have to eat them.” 

             Loren Hardin was a social worker with Southern Ohio Medical Center Hospice for twenty-nine years. He can be contacted at 740.357.6091 or lorenhardin53@gmail.com. You can purchase Loren’s book, “Straight Paths: Insights for living from those who have finished the course”, from Amazon.