Last year at this time, my children and I were driving through an intersection when a speeding car ran a red light and crashed into us, changing my life in ways that I still haven’t recovered from. Last year at this time, or rather minutes before, I was driving and laughing with my daughter, taking for granted our safety and well being just because I was an attentive and responsive driver. Because at that moment, someone else was not.
One year later and Leelu still cries at the sound of sirens. Daisy still has pain and trauma from severe whiplash. And their mother cannot get behind the wheel without first actively attempting to release the tension in her knuckles on the steering wheel. I cannot drive on the interstate, or in any other overly stressful situation because it sends me into a nervous wreck and I end up a blubbering, crying fool… so I avoid it for the safety of my own and the other drivers out there. One year later and I still battle insurance companies and credit agencies for thousands of dollars in unpaid hospital fees, adding to the stress and anxiety that I still hold from the severe PTSD caused from that accident.
One year later and I turned 35, and I am so damn grateful to be alive. Leelu is sick and I spent my birthday taking care of her and I am so incredibly thankful to have the privilege to do that. One year later and there is another child growing inside me, blessing my family once more with the gift of new life, new milestones, and new joys. One year later and Daisy prepares to enter her last year of high school with a world of possibilities set before her.
One year later where we still get to pursue our dreams. Together.
It’s one year later. I am so grateful to be here.