It's February 4th, the eve of the 20th anniversary of "the accident" - the car accident that shaped my future, my life, my heart. On that day, the day that I almost died, I learned at the tender age of 17 what it takes some people a lifetime to figure out...how to really live.
Don't get me wrong: I don't live life perfectly...but life is just perfect, just for me.
That cold Sunday morning, I cooked up a plan with a friend, to be somewhere with some people we probably shouldn't have been hanging out with anyway. I must have been feeling guilty about not being truthful about my plans with my parents, because for the first time in many years, I sat and chatted with my Dad as he shaved (and anxiously awaited the lil' bit of aftershave he would swipe on my chin, just as he did when I was little). And I watched my Ma, purposely and gracefully, put on her makeup (and teased her about the face she would make while putting lipstick on, just as I did when I was little). Before I left the house that day, I said "Goodbye" maybe ten times to each of them. The last hug I gave Ma was so that the corner of the island countertop we were standing either side of caught my rib in such a way as if to say, "Don't go"...
But I did. And it happened. The exact details of the accident are probably not all that important to share, bit by bit, but know that many people had a hand in putting this Humpty Dumpty back together. Literally.
I had a 1% chance of ever walking again. Knowing this fact, I made it my mission to live my life for the 99% of those who couldn't. To love, to give, to hope, to work hard, to give thanks and to laugh. A lot. At 17, I learned that everything certainly DOES happen for a reason, that the Man Upstairs had a design tailored for me, that the past has a plan for the future, that life has its peaks and its valleys, that there are some things you just can't control, that 'time' is a friend and a foe, that sometimes what you think is your path to take is really not an option in the end, that life just has to go on, that friends, true friends, will always lend a hand, and that family...family is everything.
Twenty years later the sentiments are the same. I look around - if that accident didn't happen to me, so many things would have been different. Not better, just different. In looking at the smiles on these babies, I don't think things could ever be better than this. If, somehow, I could have known what my future would hold for me on that day 20 years ago, I would have still gotten in the car.
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The physical scars still visible pale in comparison to the life I have loved and enjoyed the last 20 years.
Or to this cupcake.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
