Justin has had a life of abject suffering, and unremitting joy. If he could speak, if he had words, he would be one of those people who are members of life's booster club. As it is, he has only a few, nonverbal sounds and facial expressions. If you spend enough time with him, you begin to see that he is quite an effective communicator and capable of constant, unconditional love.
Justin loves speed and the feeling of wind in his face. In another life, he might have been a race care driver or an open cockpit pilot. His hands have never had to toil and the soft, delicate skin is stretched tight over atrophied muscles and disused bones. He keeps them close to his chest, but with the van window rolled down and the wind of speed blowing in, he lifts his arms and curled hands out to his sides like a small child running in the wind, playing airplane. At some point in this exercise, he will seem to experience lift-off. He bends his head back and gives life an open mouthed grin, revealing crooked and tortured teeth. Ever child-like, he lets go of a whooping sound.
At the group home, they have visiting pet day. Most of the residents are shy about the animals at first, but not Justin. The first time he experienced pet day, a little teacup poodle, known for her obedience, had been brought in as usual, off her leash. She took one look at Justin and ran to him, jumped up into his lap and licked his face. The adjustment to the home had been hard for Justin and he has seemed depressed, but not after that moment. The dog licked him several times and then pushed her tiny head into his hands until he tried to stroke her. She licked his hand and wagged her tiny stub of a tail at each successful attempt. Now she greets him from outside with a tiny bark and he barks back.
Justin's eyes have never seen a sunset, never read a word, and they have never seen pity in the eyes of a stranger, nor a child pointing to his wheelchair.
He has also never seen the face of his mother, a woman who has been a constant in his life. He knows her by her scent and when she walks into the room on visiting day, he calls out to her and awaits the soothing sound of her voice. No one knows if he can hear and understand the things she says, but there is no doubt of his love for her. He leans his head into her and nuzzles her with a far away look on his face. He is oblivious to her shame over putting him in this place, her guilt over needing a life of her own, and of her immeasurable grief and self-recrimination over his disability. He has no clue that his father walked out when he was born, calling him a monster. She knows Justin's father is the one with a handicap; he has crippled heart. With her arms around Justin, she loves him the way that any mother loves any child and she knows he loves her more than most children love most mothers. In this, she feels blessed to have Justin in her life. When she is with him, her doubts leave her for a while and his joy at just living, infects her.
It would be easy to feel sorry for Justin. He can't care for himself. He needs someone to dress him, feed him and change his diaper for him. He sits in a wheelchair in a world of darkness and his life seems meaningless to the casual observer. Yet, as you get to know Justin with his sunny disposition and his ability to take life as it comes, you'll envy him a bit.