Accident Prone – Part III

There are moments when I question why I get involved in these situations. Clarity and breadth of perspective return to my mind begging the “what-ifs.”  But those moments always occur after the fact. After time resumes its normal pace. After the adrenaline has worn off. After I can breathe again. And that is when, without fail, my hands start to shake.

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Accident Prone – Part II

The next two accidents happened in a quick succession.

Brake Lights
The first thing I recall seeing that cold October night was brake lights. Out of the darkness on the side of the road, these brake lights were wrong. They were wrong and dim and vertical. These brake lights were from a small car past the shoulder of the highway and into the woods. They belonged to a car on its side. Continue reading

Accident Prone – Part I

Their memories replay like cut-scenes from movie trailers.

Suddenly erratic movement.
The world slows to a crawl.
Vision in a narrow, blurry flux.
Deep, bellowing clamor.

Six vehicle accidents over a period of 5 years should have almost no significance except for one pivotal commonality: my presence and subsequent involvement. Continue reading

See Change

It’s not as hard as I thought it would be – changing your lifestyle. One night, I just got fed up. I’d been fed up for awhile. I could see in my pictures that I was really overweight. I wasn’t happy with it at all. I always had a different image on myself in my mind. I can’t be taller, but I was determined to shed this extra weight. And to help motivate myself in that moment, I was suffering from really bad heartburn. Heartburn from the two cheeseburgers I had for dinner. “Yeah,” I thought, “It’s time for a change.”

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I’m not totally sure when I realized it, but it was somewhere between having a beer bottle chucked at my head (March ’04), nearly having my jaw broken by a sucker punch (March ’04), finally fighting back and breaking his nose (June ’07), or realizing he’d come back at me through the back-door with a gun (September ’09). No matter which way I approached it, one thing was clear: when my brother came back from the war, he was different. Continue reading