Shane Clifton - Husbands Should Not Break: A Memoir about the Pursuit of Happiness after Spinal Cord Injury

A Memoir about the Pursuit of Happiness after Spinal Cord Injury

Shane Clifton

with Elly Clifton

September , 2010 (Wednesday)

Shane Clifton Journal

What do you do for a living?

I teach theology.

Oh, right. Whats that exactly?

Its the study of God.

Awkward silence.

I write and teach about faith... about religion.

Well that sounds interesting, forehead wrinkled in a tell me more look of curiosityor, same words, but a blank and subtly hostile flattening of the mouth that says clearly, Quick, get me out of here. Ive run into a religious nutcase.

So I teach theology for a living, but if you are expecting spiritual insight, youll be sorely disappointed. Ive spent (far too many) years studying, just to learn that I dont know very much. I am a mess of faith and doubt, and more irreverent than religious. I guess I would say Im a liberal, even if my friends hate that term with its wishy-washy connotations. To me, being a liberal suggests a certain open-mindedness and generosity... and Id like to think Ive learned at least that much. In any event, this is not a theology textbook or a spiritual guidebook. Its a journal... of sorts. Let me explain.

As part of a class I teach on social justice, my students are spending the night sleeping rough on the streets of Sydney with Hope Street Urban Compassion, trying to get a feel for what it would be like to be homeless. Ive asked them to write a journal. Not merely to record what happens, but to explore their own reactions and express something of the horror and hopelessness of homelessness.

Setting the assignment has inspired menot the horror and hopelessnessbut the process of writing a journal. I guess I should start by saying something about myself. Im a middle-aged guy, husband to Elly, father of three boys: Jeremy (Jem, ), Jacob (), and Lachlan (Lochie, ), with a mortgage and house in suburbia. You know the type; Hollywood might imagine me as Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) in American Beauty I feel like Ive been in a coma for the past twenty years. And Im just now waking up. In reality, middle class suburbia isnt so bad, but as I said, I feel inspired to writeto try to make sense of my day-to-day existenceto see whether it has any meaning. No, hang on, that sounds too much like Ive been listening to some self-help guru. Hows this? Ive been inspired to write just for the sake of it; because I want to express myself, perhaps even reveal myself. Although its never likely to see the light of day, Im going to pretend I have an audienceyou, my imaginary reader.

I do need to warn you though. This isnt the first time Ive tried to journal. I hope I can do a little better than I did at age thirteen, during my first year of high school:

December , : Dear Diary, Christmas morning. I have been up all night thinking about what I would get for Christmas. I received exactly what I wanted (a water proof watch, a Camera, and this diary). This has been the best Christmas ever.

February , 1983 : Dear Diary, Today I got my head smashed in by a year-eight student, Adam Sheda dickhead and a Catholic mind you!

February , 1983 : Dear Diary, Today I started going with Leanne Stone (a spunk in my classL, the top class).

April , 1983 : Dear Diary, Today we had a history excursion. We had a great bus trip and I got to pash Leanne for the first time. Me and Leanne also broke the kissing record with a time of three minutes, four seconds.

April , 1983 : Dear Diary, Today and the past few weeks I have been getting on unreal with Leanne (doing things even at school). I made a debate team to play against year eight. I have been writing to Helen (a girl across the road from Omas place) as a kind of a pen friend (dont tell Leanne).

May , 1983 : Had a fight with Leanne. Dropped the silly slut.

September , 2010 (Sunday)

Shane Clifton Journal

Im completely knackered... tripping over my own feet, stumbling into walls, and slurring my words knackered. Ive spent the entire weekend implementing one of Ellys grand landscaping ideas, increasing the size of the backyard pond to accommodate her growing bale of turtles. She now has four: Sushi, Kamikaze, Squirtle, and Shelby, as well as a school of koi. I dont understand it myself, this fascination with turtles; and she keeps lizards too, not to mention our cat and dog. When you take three teenage boys into account, we live in a zoo. Anyway, Elly has a few passions and maybe they are all-of-a-piece. She loves weird and wonderful miniature creatures (crabs, lizards, dragonflies); gardens, preferably of the higgledy-piggledy cottage variety, awash with color; and art, of every variety. Shes an experimenter. I suppose these passions all came together in the creation of this pond.

I shouldnt be so exhausted from a little pond-expansion project, though. I thought Id set myself up for an easy ride. The otherwise impossible task of digging through clay was achieved by hiring a one-tonne bobcat fitted with rubber tank tracks, an excavator, and backfill blades. Ha! Just writing that makes me feel manly! Honestly, this is the way to do yard-work... or so it seemed at first. I picked up the bobcat early Saturday morning from Kennards hire and enjoyed the jealous stares of the blokes at the petrol station while I filled it with diesel. Back at home, I managed to back the beast off the trailer down a forty-five-degree slopelike a nervous L-plate driver trying his first reverse park. The controls took some getting used to, but after a few hours Id managed a pond that Ian Thorpe could feel at home in. Resisting the temptation to dig up the entire backyard for a giant hot tub, Elly and I set to the task of tidying up, lining the pond with rubber and fixing up the mess created by the excavator. Two hours of digging was followed by two days of backbreaking work, and Im sorely in need of a beer and a massage, although the latter seems unlikely. I guess Ill be content to collapse, semiconscious, in front of the TV. Did I tell you Im knackered?

Maybe Hollywoods hatred of suburbia has some merit? But then I see Elly, looking like a mud wrestler at the end of a winning bout, and the effort seems worthwhile.

September , 2010 (Saturday)

Shane Clifton Journal

Itll be the big four-O on October sixteenth. I know Im supposed to be crying in my whiskey, changing my job, getting fit and then bingeing out, having an affair, and all that midlife crisis jazz. But, Im a little embarrassed to admit, Im happy enough with life. Sure, I could be richer, but I have about enough. Of course, it would be great to live in a beachside mansion, but being a bogan in Sydneys southwest has its own warped satisfaction. Ive also have a great girl. I mean, I could try to hook up with some hot twenty-year-old, but whod choose a porcelain doll over the skills and experience, the lumps, bumps, and stretch marks that have established character? Besides, as far as mid-life crisis milestones go, Ive already changed professions, leaving a potentially successful career with Price Waterhouse to become a student and then teacher of theology (madness), and I already own a raincoat-yellow convertible MX-an alternative to the Harley-Davidson my wife wont let me haveso Id say my crisis has come and gone.

Turning forty does provide a good excuse to party though! Elly and I are teaming upjoining forces for a combined fortieth celebration. Everyones going to have to dress up as their favorite movie character. We spent the morning at a hire shop, opting to go with Jems favorite film, Pirates of the Caribbean . Elly looked drop-dead gorgeous as a pirates wench. Seeing her strut through the shop, skirt billowing, brought back memories of her parading about in her wedding dress with its s-style puffy frills and her trendy perm.