Gimme Zero
✊🏻
A year ago this week we wondered if Jason had lost movement in his right wrist.
He had broken seven vertebrae in a car accident three weeks earlier.
We thought that he had no neurological damage.
Then his wrist failed to bounce back.
It was floppier.
The doctors said that it would probably regain its previous movement.
We were watching it daily as it worked its way back.
Jason couldn’t move his hands but he could move his wrists.
This allowed him to drive a car with hand controls. His wrist meant independence.
It also meant “Zero.”
Most people know how to give a high five.
Think about why it’s called a high five.
Five fingers. Up high.
When Jason broke his neck at age 15 he lost the use of his hands.
He could not open his fingers.
When people met him there was always this slightly awkward moment when they would expect a handshake.
Jason couldn’t do that.
His hand came out with closed fingers instead.
Was this a weird sort of fist bump?👊🏻
Should I grab his wrist, maybe?🤷🏻♂️
Every summer Jason and I were leaders for a week at a church youth camp (EFY).
He knew that the hundreds of kids we met that week would need a little direction when it came to greeting him.
So he taught them to give “Zero.”
You hold your hand up in the air with your fingers curled down to your palm and your thumb to the side.
The person giving you Zero does the same thing.
Then you hit your hands together at the fingers and palm area.
That’s Zero.
All week long the kids gave Jason Zero.
They ran up to him in the hallway or the sidewalk or the cafeteria.
Even later, in random towns and places, people who had the inside scoop found Jason and gave him Zero.
Jason knew how to teach about his physical limitations with love.
He knew how to open himself up so that others felt safe and confident around him.
He knew how to use his disability to create a connection.
I’ve been missing that Zero.
We didn’t hold hands the normal way.
He didn’t give me back rubs or foot massages.
But his hand was unique.
He gave me Zero.
I want to give YOU a Jason Zero.
Because I’m missing them right now.
And I’ll take one from you if you want to give it. ✊🏻💙
(Aha! Now this ✊🏻 emoji makes sense!😂)
They sent me this poster a few weeks after Jason passed away.
Love you all.