By Douglas J. Lanzo
Copyright 2022

First published in Last Leaves Issue 5 (October, 2022)

Dedicated to my 13-year old twin son, Alex

Our precious identical twin son,
only 6 months old,
bright-eyed, smiling,
beaming when the surgeon
held him gently and
examined his tiny back;

Oblivious to all
that was transpiring,
unflappable through x-rays,
basking in the attention,
seeming not to notice
that his mother was in tears
and his father was in shock;

Diagnosed with a hemi-vertebra
causing scoliosis and kyphosis,
the first surgeon recommending
immediate back surgery;

Seeking second, third, fourth and fifth opinions,
we canvassed top pediatric back surgeons
up and down the East Coast
to find the best to care for him,
each to our relief disagreeing
with the initial recommendation
for immediate surgery,
though to a person telling us
the curvature would worsen
and that no one could predict
when, or even whether,
Alex would need surgery,
but that he likely would
before he became a teen;

Almost thirteen years later,
our twin son, Alex, is a teen,
nearly as tall as his dad and healthy,
his curvature improving year by year,
seeming to always fit in
more than just fine —
an extroverted charmer,
mesmerizing audiences of
children and adults alike
with his humor and his wit;

Exceling as an athlete:
a talented swimmer,
leaping figure-skater, and
quick-reflexed tennis and
ping-pong player who,
outswims his parents,
beats adults at ping-pong and,
with only a few lessons under his belt,
is able to ski black diamonds
down 11,000-foot Colorado mountain peaks,
blazing by my brother,
who had skied the Appalachians and Rockies
his entire life;

Helicoptering down steep slopes,
deliberately veering off trail and back,
shrieking with delight
racing past his twin;

Beaming in the glow
of his unflinching courage
and unflagging spirit,
thankful to God
that I could witness
the fruits of crucial years
of his corrective growth,
sprouting up to be
an undaunted dreamer
reaching for the stars; and
knowing that,
if, by chance,
we were to race there,
he would await me…
with a smile.