"I wonder why, we are the way we are" - Alexi Murdoch
Standing in front of the gravestone, that is the color of pearl, I see my mother's named. It is etched cleanly into the stone and it is upright next to hundreds of others. Almost like tablets. A survey with your own eyes shows the cemetery surrounded by mountains; in fact, it's a military cemetery (I guess uncle sam does take care of his veterans). I stand muttering to myself as if she can hear me and understand me. I stumble around for a moment and collapse, and on my knees I'm closer to her headstone. My eyes, now blurry, reads the name and this death is real. Seeing her die wasn't enough but this is. Enough.
The vision of visiting my mother's grave came to me while looking at my friend's pictures from his accident. I saw him eating with his family and I remembered eating a "victory" meal with my mom. Victory meal after finishing outpatient rehab at Pathways near Atlanta, GA. A meal that meant that I was on my way to recovery from a near death accident. The coming year was a blur. Should I re-hash it? Sure.
I declared Recreational Therapy as my major and I began a long course classes that would lead me to where I am now. I began cycling again as my main sport, but I didn't truly start again until last year. I also dropped kayaking for awhile, but of course I am back into that sport again too. My mom was diagnosed with cancer. I dated a girl named Nikki for over a year; this ended with sadness and guilt but she changed my life. My mom was diagnosed with cancer. I got a new mountain bike which I absolutely love; however, I'm convinced my friends think I'm going to hurt myself again. I'm actually in descent physical fitness now which I'm happy about. My mom was diagnosed with cancer.
I guess it's the juxtaposition of how I held my mom's hand that upset me. She held mine you know. I don't know where I'm going or who I'm going to be, but I know what I hope to be and hope to be going. However, hope is a word that doesn't exist in my vocabulary right now. Just remember whom you love and why. Don't take things for granted. It could have been worse. My mom could have been killed in a car wreck. What a sob story.
