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tell me you love me

So I’m going to start this post by saying thank you. If I were following proper rules of etiquette I would probably take the time to go through and thank everyone personally. Yet I feel like any thank you I try to write is trite, insufficient, and quite frankly fairly stupid. I’ve thought a lot about my situation and how it would feel to be an outsider. How it would feel to receive a call from a friend and hear that her family had been in an awful accident. To read on the internet that my friend’s sister had been killed. I’ve started hearing the ways that people found out and the emotions they felt. I can’t imagine the shock, the disbelief, the sorrow, and empathy that would come. I’m glad that this happened to me because I would be at a loss for words if I were on the other side of things. I would have no idea of how to comfort or help someone in my situation. That being said, I am sincerely grateful for every effort anyone has made. From my kindergarten classmates to my kindergarten teacher and everyone in between. Friends, acquaintances, strangers—so many people have offered condolences and prayers and apologies that they couldn’t do more. Thank you for even thinking of me. Feeling such an overwhelming outpouring of love at a time like this is literally the thing I needed. So you my dear friends have collectively achieved your goal of helping me get through this. :)
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A lot of you have called and messaged asking how my family is doing. What exactly would you like to know? Physically we are all healing rapidly. I am practically back to normal. Jace and Aria look like nothing ever happened. My mom is still in a neck brace and still says “ow” every three minutes (we timed her). She has a slight knee problem that will heal itself with time. Kenyan is still restricted to using a walker everywhere she goes, but she’s not in any pain. Perhaps some of you are wondering how we are emotionally. You don’t need to know mine—I pretty much dump them on here. My mom is doing an excellent job of keeping her chin up. She’s not been depressed or resigned to bed or in any of the states I would expect her to be in. She is working hard to figure out our future, including where we’ll live and what she wants to be “when she grows up”. Jace is having the hardest time being without Jada. They were best friends, as jealous as I am to admit that. He has taken the hardest hit and was already suffering so much from previous losses this year. Kenyan has come out of her morose stage. She is back to having stars in her eyes. And little Aria is thrilled to be getting so much attention and mom time. So we’re good. Really good.

Whew.

Alright now for the fun, easy stuff.

Let’s talk about Aria. She is having the time of her life here. She doesn’t have any limiting injuries, so she’s free to go anywhere and do anything. Especially since my mom is being a little more laid back on rules and things.
Exhibit A:
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For the record, there were most assuredly more bubbles on the floor than there were in the tub.
Exhibit B:
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Aria is an aspiring gymnast. She’s narrowly avoided returning to the hospital several times. Her new favorite is to do front flips off of furniture. Brilliant.

She is LOVING her new friends. It’s a little weird that they’re all a few years younger than her. Well, maybe not. She’s “always wanted a younger sister”. Except that this ‘always’ business just started when she met these girls. Ha.
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[Anna’s piggy bank and bank records—including nicls, dims, and cortrs.]

Aria sleeps in weird positions. And her new stop-scratching-your-eczema-skin gloves make me laugh. So I take pictures. Creepy? Maybe.
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Yesterday I saw the most tender little sister moment ever. Aria was in bed pouting about something and kind-hearted Kenyan drug her little self over to the bedside, sat on the edge, and body slammed Aria with a hug. It was the best she could control her body. It sent Aria into a much needed fit of giggles.
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Kenyan sat there for a while pulling Aria’s face into different emotions, opening and closing her eyes for her and moving her mouth like a puppets. Even when she’s half paralyzed Kenyan is still an entertaining big sister.


















Oh, and Jace spends his spare time playing with trains that he never got as a kid because he lived with so many girls.

You know…I don’t think the official lists of injuries are fair. They just say ‘severe injuries’ or ‘fractured skull’. That doesn’t really paint a very good picture for an interested public. They don't say road rash on every limb, bruises speckling my whole body, torn muscles, fear of cars, inability to stand, sit, lay down, or brush teeth. I guess that would take up time and space, but it would make me feel more justified in my injuries. I don’t need any more sympathy…it would just help people understand better the awkwardness of being injured. Not that I mind being injured. Since I'm injured I can get away with things that would normally be unacceptable. Things like only wearing white v-necks purchased in a 5 pack, shaking things up by sometimes wearing basketball shorts and sometimes wearing sweats. Things like wearing a black bra underneath said white shirts. Things like not shaving and not brushing my hair because I cannot physically do either. I have to say though…its hard to make friends in this phase of healing. Its hard to introduce myself to people here because I want to say "I'm Bridian and my face isn't supposed to look like this and usually I don't walk with a limp or rely on a sling. Oh p.s. my family is homeless, carless, and fatherless and my sister died last week. Wanna be friends??". Of course I never say that. I wait for them to ask what happened and I give a simple, light hearted explanation. I refrain from saying that the staples in my head is why my braid is a little funny. Or that the pulled muscles in my leg makes it hard for me to stand. I want to tell everyone. But I don't. I try not to bring up Jada because no one ever knows what to say and it’s awkward and we all know how much I hate awkwardness. I feel sorry for every person that has never met her, will never meet her. Because she was my hero, she was awesome. And they don't know that. I guess we never really know where people come from, and we come to our own conclusions after we meet them. Its just hard to have so much of my life absent.

This post is getting way too heartfelt and serious. Sorry.

I want you all to have a good view of what I see the majority of my day. I sit here on the couch, staring at my mangled feet. Sometimes I watch TV, ignoring the fact that it’s usually tuned to an episode of iCarly or Good Luck Charlie that Aria and I have watched a thousand times. It really never gets old, listening to her laugh at the same lame joke or slapstick scenes.
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Cassie was nice enough to take us to the library the other day. What an eventful trip that was. Poor Cassie was straining to keep her baby on her hip while I pretended to be physically capable of helping Kenyan in her walker while Aria pretended she didn’t know any of us. We failed at keeping our volume at a library level. Kenyan’s walker made loud squeaking noises and lil baby G made loud squawking noises. Poor Aria and I were looking at books with Cassie when some random lady comes up and YELLS [we are still in a library people] at Cassie, informing her that ‘her daughter’ (aka Aria aka not her daughter) somethingsomethingsomething about the door and broke her nail and hurt her feelings. Um…come again? Did you really just say that? Are you five? Do you have a library voice? ‘Cuz you sure as heck are not using it. Needless to say it was eventful, as everything is with my family. I escaped with a few books. They’ve been keeping me company the last few days.
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You don’t have to tell me that I shouldn’t leave books open like this. My mom tells me all the time and I do it anyway. It’s my form of rebellion. And if you think you recognize that book don’t worry. You do. It’s Harry Potter. Because I decided I have time to read every book series ever written.

This post is so stinkin long. I don’t know why you even read this far. If it were me I would have quit after the first paragraph. I’m going to keep writing though. Haha. Ha.

Remember that necklace I got back on the best day of my life? Guess what. They took it off of me in the emergency room and told me they’d put all my jewelry in a jar to send home with me. Well I got the jar back.
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It was nasty. I’m not very squeamish and it was all my germs on it, but that was some bloody jewelry. I finally got around to washing it off yesterday [this is gross. i’m aware.] and guess what! They gave me back the necklace and NOT THE CHARM. Really? You can’t even tell me that it got ripped off of me in the accident or anything. I bet some nurse just got jealous and kept it for herself. Or a man nurse was working and forgot it was his anniversary that night so he decided to take it and wash it off and give it to his girlfriend and tell her that it was super expensive and that he got it because he loved her. Little liar. Yeah I like that story the best. ANYWAY… my loving mother gave me a new one.
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It was Jada’s. Ten times better. Keep your stolen present, dumb man nurse. I like this one better.

Plus I stole someone else’s jewelry. I stole Jada’s bracelet. And I had to wash a little blood off of that one too. [Are you puking yet?] I also decided to leave my hospital bracelets on. The white one is my name and the bright orange one says ALLERGY. Just in case someone tries to feed me cats.
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See that tiny little white string at the very top? Jada and I made those cheap little things out of plumbing tape that we found in our garage while packing. I don’t know why they didn’t cut it off or how it’s lasted so long, but it’s pretty cool.

Since I’m posting all my sentimental, made-from-garbage jewelry…
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I got a new watch. Number 4 in the past eight months. Do you like my road rash on my arm that’s almost so healed that you can’t see it? I do.

And I’m still taking pictures of my swollen, cut up feet. That’s how you know I’m better.
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Peace out kids.
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[Title from Chelsea by The Summer Set]

5 comments:

  1. Just wanted to let you know that we (Jacob and I)love reading your blog. YOu are an excellent writer and it's great to hear how your family is doing. Thanks for being so candid and sharing all your feelings (the good, bad, and funny) with us. You are amazing.

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  2. I like that your braid is off center. As you know I'm a little off center myself. It's good to be a little different.I never worried when people asked me about Matthew. I just told them the truth. Sometimes I may have been too blunt, I never let it bother me, even if it bothered them. You will never forget Jada and I feel they are always with us looking out for us. Will send goodies soon. Love D.

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  3. I love reading every crazy paragraph of your blog! I haven't seen you all for so long that I feel like I am getting to know everyone a little better. Keep healing and writing! Love you guys!

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  4. Still loving your blog. I wait for the newest post daily, just so you know. I do have stalker tendencies, so be careful. You guys are amazing and I'm so glad to hear that you are all recovering.

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  5. You do, in fact, have a car. It's sitting in our garage waiting to be taken downtown this afternoon to get new tires and an oil change (all gratis Peterson Plumbing in Springville, Utah). Can't wait to see you guys soon. Brid, you have a bed/room at our house anytime you need.

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