Today I woke up with a dull headache. The kind I have gotten every day for the past two years and three months.
I thought about the wreck in the shower, and was thankful that I am a changed person because of it.
That my headaches, short term memory loss and ever aching injuries serve as a reminder that my life is mine to live and it can end at any moment.
Today someone told me that they loved me in purple, that Wednesday I looked amazing. On the drive to work, I couldn’t imagine what purple shirt I owned, much less what I wore Wednesday and wished I could go home for lunch to look through my closet to remember.
Today, someone asked about my scars.
I was shocked because no one has noticed them in months.
I told the story of my wreck, the one everyone seems to remember, but me.
I know what the police report says; “flew in the air, flipped about seven times”
The memories are increasing slowly but still, just the three stand out vividly.
Praying while flying in the air, lying broken in the mud, and a man whispering “this is a helicopter baby.”
Today I thanked God for the eight hundred and eleventh time.
