It has not been a banner twelve months for the Duke clan.  At least not when it comes to physical health.  Someone once told me that Duke’s had more balls than brains and perhaps they were right.

For me, I've been battling with head issues for the better part of the last two years.  Concussions, to be precise.  In the war, I had been concussed at least a half dozen times and as such, I suffer from recurring bouts of tinnitus and migraine headaches that sometimes sets me down for a few days.  The latest- after a head on collision with Ken Davison on pay per view in AAW.

For Minkah, my oldest sons four legged bestie, a tangle with a pack of coyotes left him beaten and bruised and in need of some surgery to reattach his left ear and fix a broken tail.

Frankie himself… a ballsy move but not a smart one cost him several weeks in a hospital, a shattered left leg and left me almost a half million dollars in the hole for all of his various fines and damages to the home owner where he wrecked my Harley and damn near cost him his own life.

Today, all three of us had follow up appointments.  All of them before noon.

”Frankie!” I called out from the kitchen.  ”Get your ass in gear, we gotta move!”

As a boy of 14, he was less interested in doing what he had to do and more interested in doing what he wanted to do.  You can say that about pretty much every 14 year old boy, but dammit, you're already hobbled and gonna slow us down anyway.  Move!

”What's on tap today?” Lucy asked as she sat upon the stool in front of the breakfast bar, sipping on hot coffee.

”Follow ups.  Didn't I tell you?”

”No,” she said while shooting me a smile.

”Ugggh, sorry,” I shamefully replied.  ”Shits been hectic. I thought I did.”

”You don't need to be sorry,” she said as she set down her coffee and removed herself from the stool.

Coming over toward me where I sat with my shoes off, she straddled my lap.

”Mmm,” I said with a smile after she kissed me.  ”I'm suddenly okay with being very late,” I joked, but only sort of.

”Eww. Stop it,” Frankie said as he entered the kitchen with Minkah on his leash.

”You have no right to eww anybody, Sir Crusty Sock,” I joked.

Lucy laughed and removed herself from my lap.

”You leave my socks out of this,” he shot back.  ”I take care of those myself thank you very much.”

”Figured you'd take whatever you could get these days since you haven't had your laptop in like four months.”

”I make do!” he argued facetiously.  ”You two would just ruin the mood.”

”Sorry buddy,” I said genuinely, but again only kind of as I finished putting on my shoes.  ”I didn't know you and Jill had romantic plans tonight.”

Looking up at him finally, he stared at me with a puzzled expression.  Holding up my right hand, I used my left to trace the outline of “Jill” until he understood.

”Dammit,” he muttered beneath his breath.  Frankie turned to hobble toward the attached garage door off the kitchen before he started laughing.

”You two are ridiculous,” Lucy said before a chuckle.

A short time later, three humans and one viciously loving blue staffy wearing the cone of shame file into my Denali pickup.  Minkah was up first.  He was recovering well, but a bit shy to go potty without his big brother Mufasa to cover his backside.

His veterinarian just loved him.  He was always a great big bundle of joy with a heartwarming smile.  His ear was healing a little wonky but physically fine and without pain.  He'd lose his cone of shame today and we figured after these appointments were all in the books, he'd have himself a great big pup cup to celebrate.

Frankie's appointment after was the one I was looking forward to.  We'd learn today that he could get his cast cut off maybe as early as the beginning of March.  Frankie is a strong kid, physically and mentally.  He made the biggest mistake that hopefully he'll ever make in his life before he even turned 14 but he's taken the repercussions of those mistakes in stride.

He's a good hearted kid and a good kid in general.  He knows he fucked up.  I don't feel the need to keep punishing him anymore than he already did to himself with the accident.  Sure, he'll still do things around the property to work off what he owes, but that was his idea.  Frankie is keenly aware that there's no amount of physical labor that he's capable of that will recoup the near half million dollars that he's cost me so far.

But it's not about the money.  It's about paying debts to society whether it's out of his dad's pocket or charity work or what have you.  It's about making those you've negatively affected whole again.  It's about showing you care about things other than yourself.  It's about acknowledging his own guilt without having to be reminded of the worst thing he's ever done.

Despite the strife he'd put me through all those months ago, I couldn't be more proud to be his dad.  He's bright, intelligent, he's kind, and warm, he's tough but forgiving, he's funny as hell and the best big brother to two little kids that absolutely adore him.

Once upon a time, he had me on a pedestal.  He admired me and that's a feeling that I don't know if anyone, especially me, could ever really describe in an adequate kind of way.

I did all I could to destroy that pedestal and shatter his naive boy eyed perception of the man I was meant to be.  Losing his adoration and admiration was the worst thing to come out of my failed marriage to his mother.  He hated me for a while and I deserved it.  For a long time I was afraid, genuinely fearful, that I'd never be able to fix my mistakes.  That I'd lost him forever.

Since his accident and his reconciliation with Lauren, that pedestal that once rested beneath me and that I was so proud to stand on, I've felt reforming below me.  There's a twinkle in his eye again, the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles are back again.

It's great and I'm endlessly thankful and grateful that I got to keep him, that his worst mistake of his young life wasn't also his last mistake.  I don't know who to thank or how to thank them for giving Frankie back to me.  I wish I'd never lost sight of my own importance as a role model.  Not to the millions of kids that love to see me wrestle and cheer me and buy my shirts, but to the single most important kid that changed my life forever.

Frankie… is my life.  And I'll never lose sight of that again.

---

”How about your symptoms?” asked Becky as I laid inside the imaging machine.  Becky is Dr. Rebecca Lawrence, my neurologist.

”Uhhhh,” I stammered and stalled, buying myself time to debate whether I wanted to be honest or lie through my teeth.

”The truth,” Lucy chimed in from somewhere outside the machine.

”But mommmmmm!”

”Thaddeus!” she snapped with a chuckle.

”Start with headaches,” Becky laughed.

”A few slight ones, no migraines,” I replied, beginning my path of truth.

”Light or photosensitivity?”

”Intermittent,” I paused.  ”Sometimes more intense than others.”

”Tinnitus?”

”Ooof, that's been kind of off the charts,” I said without hesitation.  ”It's so ungodly irritating and triggers anxiety.”

”Off the charts,” she repeated as she turned off the imager thingy.  ”Come on out of there.

“On a scale of one to ten, how severe is your tinnitus?”

”Oh, an eleventy-six,” I said as I sat in a chair on the other side of Becky's desk.  Lucy naturally sat beside me.

”Thaddeus,” she hesitated to turn her computer monitor so we could see.  ”I hate to tell you this, but I think it's time you found something else to do with your professional life.”

I sat there quietly for a moment.  I didn't look at the images of my brain on her screen, but at her face and into her eyes.  To be clear, this isn't the first time she's advised me to hang it up.  I was reluctant the last time.  She was reluctant to clear me for competition.  Before she agreed to it, she put me through a rigorous regimen and a ridiculous battery of tests that took damn near six months to get through.

I fought hard.

Despite her reluctance, she eventually gave me clearance.  I'm not sure I'll get that lucky this time.

”These spots,” she said pointing to a series of different dark spots on the surface of my brain, all of them varying in shape and size.  Becky changed the image.

”This is how it looked last time I cleared you,” she reminded me.  ”The spots were there but faint and seemed to be fading.”

Next image.

”This is from when you came to see me two days after you were knocked unconscious in your match last month,” she said.

It was obvious.  Those previous spots had darkened considerably.  Next image.

”...and today, Thaddeus,” she said but stopped and let me process what I was seeing.

More spots had developed.  They weren't significant compared to the others, but nevertheless, they persist.

”Youuu remember what all those little spots are, right?” she asked gently.

Saying nothing, I just nodded my understanding.

”I know you don't want to even consider it, but please take a month, take two months, whatever it takes to truly consider my recommendation,” she pleaded.  ”These don't heal and eventually will only get worse and one day, you land wrong or you take the wrong weapon to the head at the wrong time, and you're drooling on your shoulder for the rest of your life.

“You're too young for that,” she continued pleading her case.  ”You have some little people at home that love you and they need their dad.  So, maybe consider it for a while and we'll check your progress next month.”

”Thanks Becks, I gotta go,” I said before abruptly standing and heading for the door.

Lucy hurried to catch up as I walked briskly, perhaps trying to outrun the truth that was chasing behind me.  Before we reached the entrance doors, she finally caught up to me and stopped me.

”Hey!” Lucy said as she stopped me from pulling away from her.  ”We'll figure it out together,”

I wasn't sad.  I wasn't sure exactly what I was feeling.  Angry probably.  At myself for having repeated head trauma causing incurable brain damage, at myself for believing my concussion problems were behind me once and for all.  Angry at myself for always going a bridge too far in the name of competition, in the name of entertainment.  Angry at myself… for letting myself down.

”You, me, Frankie,” Lucy continued.  ”Hell, we can even let T.J. and Livvy help figure it out.”

I forced out a smile as I grabbed her by the hand and began to slowly stroll toward the entrance.

”Do you have a date for lunch?” I changed the subject.

”Well I was talking to this hot guy this morning,” she joked.  ”I'm pretty sure he was into me.”

”Yeah?”

”Yeah.”

”How sure?”

”Hard to tell for sure, but he did invite me to sit on his lap.”

”That tramp.”

”And he liked it.”

”You hussy! I thought we had something special!”

”Mehhh, yeah well maybe if you looked like this guy.”

Through the doors and out into the parking lot, she stood facing me not too far from the Denali pickup.

”You're truly a remarkable woman, you know that?”

”I did have some suspicion that might be the case,” she said as she leaned forward.  Just as we started to kiss, Frankie laid on the horn.

”I want my ice cream!” he shouted across the lot.  ”I was a very good boy too!”

”I guess the teenage fuhrer wants a pup cup,” I joked before we headed to the truck to finish off the afternoon.