I counted the days, the months, and the years... I had been doing things wrong for a long time now. I woke up and for the second time in my life is was a miracle. The first time I woke up was when I was born and my dad held me in his arms and fed me sugar water. The second time was when I woke up from my coma. There were colors and voices and names and they were beautiful. Suddenly, being alive had a feeling of happiness. I was eighteen. I know what happened. I meant to cross the street. It was an accident... Something happened and I got hit by a car. It was a week later and I was going to be alright. There is a lot of life ahead of me. I wanted to be forgiven and love and learn and live. Doing things for my dad, my family, and at home was incredible. I was able to do it. I was able to walk, breathe, sleep, speak. I have reflected on my life and looked back. It can become a paralyzing thing unless you can look back with gratefulness. I wanted to spend time with my dad. I wanted to spend time with my sister. I climbed two mountains and five peaks for him this summer. I ran three miles in forty-three minutes for him. I explored the trails along the river for him. I watched a bird fly across the expanse for him. Maybe I was making up for lost time. Doing all the things that you love, without you. These were things I never really appreciated or wanted to do. I missed you so much and reaching the mountain top was a gift. I stood at the top and viewed the lakes, the forests, the surrounding mountains, the life. I wondered what I could do in it. It was strange. It made me feel not so...far away...like no time had really gone by at all. Then I learned some valuable, difficult lessons on my own. When I wasn't able to spend time with my dad after my recovery, I took a look at myself. Harsh words were said. Sweet words were unsaid. Arms were closed. Backs were turned. Something was not right. I would climb two mountains and five peaks for you again. I would admire the change in the seaons for you. Then I would slow down and remain focused and confident for you. I know you've had news like I had. It's the kind of news that makes you feel like, "whoa, I'm alive, and my life might have been otherwise." Life is suddenly sweeter and richer. I think if you really knew me dad, you would be proud of me. I listen to one of your favorite songs often. I remember the words and I remember the view. It is captured behind my closed eyes. I listen to that song for you. I look at the view for you. It took effort and it was work but I made it, for you. I made it to the finish line one night. It was the first time I had done three miles without stopping. I was two feet from the white marker on the pavement at the track. The sun was setting behind the trees and I was alone. I lifted my arms and cheered for myself as I came to the finish. It's amazing to think what I could do with my life until I make it to the finish line.
For My Dad
September 29, 2010