God, I miss the Serious Debate forum in the old message boards, but at any rate…With the winter holidays quickly approaching, I thought it’d be a good time for me to share a little story with you guys. Let me take you on a little journey through time…
(Keep in mind that what you’re reading is all that’s been told to me. I’ve yet to actually read any media reports or stories to come from this event)
On December 24, 1989 (Christmas Eve), My parents took both me (14-months at the time) and my sister, age 7, to our grandparents’ house (roughly a half hour drive north of here) to celebrate an early Christmas with them.
After we said our goodbyes and the sun having already set, we were on the road home. With my dad behind the wheel, and I asleep in my car seat, we were well on our way and making good time. What him or the rest of the family couldn’t see in the dark, though, was the dog that had run in front of our car; and as we swerved to avoid it, the oncoming car that would collide with us, killing my sister on impact.
It wasn’t until a couple years ago, at a Christmas eve mass at church, coincidentally, that I met the first responder to that tragic call. It was like a mini-reunion, where him and my parents both shared tears and exchanged stories of what they could recall from the accident, and when I learned that the driver of that oncoming vehicle was under the influence of marijuana, or some other kind of drug.
Going back to the night of the accident, though. My dad somehow managed to escape unharmed, while both my mom (who had suffered some neck and nerve damage) and I (who had suffered a serious head injury and a fractured skull that had completely erased the first 433 days of my life) were both immediately rushed to separate hospitals. The doctors who were in charge of me told my parents that it would be a miracle if I was going to survive, due to my injuries, and needless to say, I did.
As for what my life was like before the crash, I’m unsure, unless I were to go back and look through old video tapes and pictures, but since that night, my life has been a successful battle with some help along the way. Sure, I’ve needed help in school, including a teacher’s aide in every classroom I was in right up until high school, and even special education right through my senior year. I’ve also required special nightly growth hormone injections, from my 8th to my 16th birthday, that my body wasn’t fully producing, and if not for those, I would have ended up roughly three times shorter in height than I am now.
Thus ends my story, and if you’ve come this far, thanks for taking the time to read it. If any of you have ever come close to looking Death in the face, like I have, then as always, feel free to share your story with the rest of us. We can all share in our experiences together, no matter if your story is as serious as mine, or as silly as slipping on an ice cube and crashing to the floor.