7.13.2016

Scars and the stories they bring...

"You can't die on me. I won't let you! I can't imagine a world without you in it!" Those are the words I screamed over and over again a year ago today. 

See, when your earliest memories have someone in them, it's hard to imagine a life without that person. Even if your daily life doesn't involve them. Even if you don't see them but every few months, they still have the ability to make such a large impact on you that the thought of never seeing them again is too much to comprehend. 

Before I really get started, let me take a quick break and take you back over 25 years ago....
From the earliest memories I have of my childhood school days I can remember Matt and I always being close. In kindergarten he insisted on having his mat right next to mine at nap time. This inevitably got me in trouble because he refused to nap and instead would tell jokes in a whisper voice. His favorite was singing Hankey Doodle and purposely messing up the words so I would laugh. Mrs. Delavon didn't find it as amusing as I did. 
Matt was the first boy to ever give me a balloon *insert girly "awwww" here*.. I'll never forget it...he marched right up with his rattail curl haircut and cowboy boots and handed me a Minnie and Mickey balloon. I probably said gross or something to the effect, but that's what's expected at 7, right? 
All through elementary, junior high, and high school Matt and I were close friends. 
In high school, our friendship changed when he decided it was his purpose in life to make mine miserable. He tormented me with all sorts of craziness...just for example... the thought of me having any sort of successful relationship was out of the question because he never ceased to stop badgering me and the guy. He even sat on my porch and waited for me to return from a date once. Just waited there on the porch swing. That date went great. I could literally go on and on with situations just like this....but no matter how much he dished out, it was only okay for him to do so...no one else was allowed to, or if they did, he always came to my rescue. I can't tell you the times that Matt has come to my rescue. In small things like carrying my ice bucket around along with his when we both injured our ankles in basketball, and in big things like being a shoulder I could cry on when we lost a great friend our senior year. Matt's just always been there. 

Fast forward to a year ago....when we decided to take a curve going a bit too fast on a fourwheeler. The last thing I vividly remember was flying over Matt's head. I'm not certain how long I laid on the road unconscious....but I know when I came to and turned around and saw Matt lying on his back with zero movement that life stopped.
This is when I ran yelling. This is the moment that I thought, this is it. I can't put into words the feelings that I had in that moment. I just knew I had to do something....and he still "humorously" thanks me for saving his life. See, anyone that has ever taken safety 101 class knows that you never, ever move a person that could have possible spinal chord damage.....so of course, I did what any logical person would do. I lifted him from the road, gently placed him back on the four-wheeler, and proceeded to drive a mile up the road to my front yard where I knew I would have cell service to call 911. Upon arriving in my yard, I ever so carefully placed him back on the ground...at least that's what I'd like him to believe...however, we both know that he actually fell off the four-wheeler and into the yard when the four-wheeler stopped. (If anyone is ever in need of a nurse to take care of you in a traumatic experience, I'm not the person to call). At this point I would like to say what I always do when Matt picks about this particular part of the night "but did you die?"...no, you're welcome. We can joke about this now, but only because miraculously we both managed to survive this night. I only had exterior wounds....Matt took the brunt of the wreck and was life flighted out that night with multiple internal injuries....including, but not not limited to a punctured lung....which he still places the blame on me for that😁. He spent over a month in the hospital, and still had months of rehab and recovery to go. However, a year later the scars are fading and you would never know either of us had ever been in such an accident. I can't imagine what life would have been like if Matt hadn't eventually walked away from that wreck. I'm just thankful everyday that he did. 
I read a quote once that said, "maybe life isn't about avoiding the bruises, maybe it's about collecting the scars to prove we showed up for it." 
Well, Matt, we can definitely say we showed up.


(The morning after the wreck)

(Two weeks after the wreck)

(Our most recent picture together-11 months after the wreck) 

 


 


 


 
 

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