Jake is probably not what most of us would think a boy with a serious illness like muscular dystrophy would be like. Most of us would probably think that he would be quiet and perhaps a bit depressed, perhaps a loner, someone caught up with his physical problems.

He’s not at all like that. Jake is rowdy. He fights, he wrestles, and he runs around constantly. He never stops. He is full of energy and lives his live to the fullest.

Jake gets into a lot of trouble in school. He’s loud and he says whatever is on his mind. He gets into the most trouble for cussing. Once, back in kindergarten, he said fuck in class, and the teacher got upset with him. He responded to her upset by saying “ what did I do, I only said fuck.” I think that now though he is finally getting that school is run by uptight people for uptight people and he has to live in their world when he’s there. He’s learning.

He also gets in trouble for hitting and shoving, wrestling with his friends. He is wild. Sometimes I see him barely in control. He spends a lot of time in the Principles office at school. They are becoming friends. His teacher likes him too. Everyone likes him. They just want him to control himself so that he can fit into their environment. He will. Callahan did.

Jake is also a straight A student. Reading and writing are easy for him, arithmetic isn’t hard either. He reads a lot, not because he has too but because he wants to. He reads the funny paper every day. He’s always reading something.
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Jake does know that something is wrong with his body. He’s not ignorant, certainly not a fool. He knows that his muscles are weaker that most boys. He also knows that he doesn’t have the endurance that others do. It doesn’t stop him though. He just keeps on going, running up the trail ahead of Callahan and me. I don’t think he knows yet where the muscle dystrophy is supposed to take him. And even when he does know, I don’t think he will slow down for it at all.

He does know that something is wrong. After all, he goes to the muscle clinic at Children’s Hospital in Denver twice a year and is poked and prodded and tested by five or six doctors, nurses, and others. He has me stretching out his muscles in his feet and ankles every day. He also has Andrea his physical therapist and Jonathan his rolfer working on him weekly. He knows something is up. He knows that his body needs help. But rather than be depressed and sad at what his life may have in store for him, he is fighting it every inch of the way with an exuberance that is incredible.

I wonder how his life will turn out. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.