nothing lasts forever, no matter how it feels today

today marks one year. one year since that car flipped upside down, one year since I’ve seen jada, since I woke up on the side of the road, confused as to what had happened. one year. I can’t even believe that. I’ve never felt a year crawl along so slowly. a year filled with such peace and such turmoil, such happy days and such terrifying nightmares, so much joy and so much excruciating pain. it’s pretty safe to say that I’ve learned, that I’ve grown. my body is almost completely healed and my mind is getting there. I am certain there are things that will never be quite the same again, but that’s okay.

I’ve been thinking about all the scars I acquired in the accident—on my knees, my scalp, my shins, my back, my feet—and how they will never go away. the scar tissue that formed is noticeable and still pretty painful when anything touches it, but isn’t that the point? don’t scars form so that we won’t forget the things that have happened? I will forever be physically marked with reminders of the pain, but also as proof that pain fades and time moves on.

I went back and read some of the things I wrote around this time last year [something that doesn’t happen very often] and my attention was drawn to the first non-accident related post I wrote. that period of time was so fragile, so gentle. we very slowly, very carefully picked ourselves up and learned to stand again. granted, we were knocked down again and again, but that is to be expected, for the rest of forever.

and I rediscovered this video again, one of my favorites ever made. my mom and her neck brace, my battered face and bandaged knee, everyone so happy and full of hope. these aren’t things I ever want to forget.

a heartfelt, sincere thanks to the hundreds of people that moved mountains and eased the weight of burdens in the last year. to friends and strangers. to the wonderful, big hearted people of texas. to the browns and the voorhies, the evers and the madieras, reo and tanya. to our dear florida friends who gave up so much to come and help us. it is incredible to me that my family is doing as well as they are, and we couldn’t have done it without you. 

[title from chances by five for fighting]


  1. i can't believe it has been a year. i remember exactly where i was sitting when i found out. i love ya! stay strong. i also liked your depression post. i was at a book club recently and everyone there had either dealt with depression before or had a spouse that did. it is so much more common than people think!

  2. Remembering a year ago, driving all night to get to you at the hospital then begging the staff to let us be with you. Your worries about everyone but yourself. Your pain when the blood pressure cuff would start. Your wheelchair ride to your sisters hospital room. Many, many more. Love you and your family.

  3. I love the line "proof that pain fades and time moves on." I feel like I am healing with you. You are so strong. A true hero. -eb