JANUARY 29TH 2016
January 29th, 2016
Nothing can ever be the same again. Nothing will ever be the same – not in my lifetime; not in my life. Not in all of eternity. This is true for all of us. For some, that becomes more pronounced. Since the car accident happened on January 29th in 1983, I am who is left. That is really pronounced and visible to me.
Today is the 33rd anniversary of the auto crash that mostly ended my life – it stopped how my life was becoming and how it had developed before the incident.
It was approximately 1:00 am when the driver missed that turn on Diez Hill road near the city park. We struck the culvert in his little Ford Pinto. But that was 33 years ago. A long time ago.
We had gone out the night before to meet with friends from work and to watch a local band play at a club downtown. He came to her house and picked me up there.
This is all a story that I had been told since the incident, after the accident. I could not remember anything about it myself. I still can not remember it. Not after the single car crash. Not after my severe Traumatic Brain Injury. Not after awakening from a six of seven week coma.
I hardly remember him, and I remember virtually nothing about her. I am still sorry about not remembering her. But, I did not. I remember small amounts from before the car wreck. Everything got mixed up in my mind instantly.
So much has gone on in my life since that date, the early morning hours of January 29th, 1983. I surprisingly lived. Here I am to talk about it; if I can and when I can. Very much of my memory is altered and I've forgotten so much. People told me many stories about my life. And, since I do still have some memories, everything becomes convoluted. Who am I and who have I become?
Just as the Moody Blues song Nights in White Satin sings at the very end;
Nothing can ever be the same again. Nothing will ever be the same – not in my lifetime; not in my life. Not in all of eternity. This is true for all of us. For some, that becomes more pronounced. Since the car accident happened on January 29th in 1983, I am who is left. That is really pronounced and visible to me.
Today is the 33rd anniversary of the auto crash that mostly ended my life – it stopped how my life was becoming and how it had developed before the incident.
It was approximately 1:00 am when the driver missed that turn on Diez Hill road near the city park. We struck the culvert in his little Ford Pinto. But that was 33 years ago. A long time ago.
We had gone out the night before to meet with friends from work and to watch a local band play at a club downtown. He came to her house and picked me up there.
This is all a story that I had been told since the incident, after the accident. I could not remember anything about it myself. I still can not remember it. Not after the single car crash. Not after my severe Traumatic Brain Injury. Not after awakening from a six of seven week coma.
I hardly remember him, and I remember virtually nothing about her. I am still sorry about not remembering her. But, I did not. I remember small amounts from before the car wreck. Everything got mixed up in my mind instantly.
So much has gone on in my life since that date, the early morning hours of January 29th, 1983. I surprisingly lived. Here I am to talk about it; if I can and when I can. Very much of my memory is altered and I've forgotten so much. People told me many stories about my life. And, since I do still have some memories, everything becomes convoluted. Who am I and who have I become?
Just as the Moody Blues song Nights in White Satin sings at the very end;
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