It’s been a while since I’ve sat down to write for the blog. I’ve had a lot of healing to do and I’m not done yet. It amazes me the support that has continued for us as time has gone by. The biggest problem I’m battling is that I feel infamous. I was walking up to the local IHOP the other day. As I approached the door, a little old lady was also hobbling up on her cane and beat me to the door. I tried to get the door, but she refused to let me touch it. She said, “I know you.” I gave her a puzzled look and said, “Excuse me?” She then grabbed hold of me and gave me a huge hug and said, “I’ve seen you on the news.” That was a heavy situation. Until you’ve experienced it, you can’t know the gravity of something like that.
I’ve been spending a lot of time in therapy, physical AND psychological. I am fortunate enough to have a pretty nice fitness center at my apartment that is available 24 hours a day, so I take advantage of that and am doing 90% of the physical stuff on my own. I do go in to the “pros” just so that I can’t be accused of being non-compliant. The physical healing is all stuff that will just happen on it’s own. There’s not a whole lot for me to do about it, it just takes time.
Since I’ve been neck-deep in the recovery process for the past year, I’ve had a lot to confront. I do know that I went through a phase where I had a very flat affect. That comes from what was basically a lobotomy. There was a party going on inside my head, but I was a complete blank slate on the outside to the rest of the world, at least I think so… That’s the source of me being “dumb and happy.” I have the most amazing therapist that has done wonders in helping me learn how to feel again. I think the dam has broken now because I’ve entered a phase where I cry ALL THE TIME. I literally need no reason whatsoever in order to find the front of my shirt soaked with tears.
Today has done nothing to dry those tears up. I went up to the Roadrunner to have lunch with a friend of mine today. That location alone is the source of a lot of emotions, it having been the spot where we all had lunch on March 25. Knowing I had to go up there, I thought I’d better leave a little early so I’d have time to see my friends at the Walgreens on the Carefree Highway, the actual site of the disaster. Going to that Walgreens on it’s own is more than enough for me to need to have my therapist with me. In 2 months, the memorial that the community has constructed at that intersection hasn’t diminished at all. People still regularly stop to pay their respects. My greatest hero and my biggest fan, Janice, is not only the manager of the Walgreens, but she is the steward of the memorial, going out there and straightening the candles and taking out the dried up flowers. She collected the notes that people have left and had them all laminated so that they would last a little longer. Janice is really a touchstone of the community up in that area and she is loved by everyone. Just to remind you, she is the one that held a blanket over me to shield me from the sun as I laid there in the street that day.
I salute the corporate decision-makers for allowing the crew at Walgreens to devote the entrance of their store to us. When you walk in, there is a large banner hanging on the wall. There is, what, 12-16 feet of shelving dedicated to t-shirts, bumper-stickers, and patches? Where are you going to find that in a non mom and pop environment? As I stood in the store today, looking at the display, a gentleman walked up and placed a donation into the big water-jug that has been placed there for us. He looked over at me and I said to him, “Thank you.” I instantly got teary. I gimped over and introduced myself and he said, “I know who you are. I’ve seen you on TV. I’m glad to see you out and about.” Then he told me something that is a recurrent theme among well-wishers, “There is still something important for you to do in this world.” I replied to him, “That’s the rumor.” I’m still looking for that bigger purpose. I wish I knew what it was.
Janice helped me back to her office so I could compose myself. After visiting for a few minutes, I needed to get going so that I wouldn’t be late to lunch. As I got near the door, she stopped me. Janice had told me the story about a little boy that was at the crash site the day of the accident. While his dad got out of the car to help the first responders, his mom did what she could to keep him from witnessing the horror. Unfortunately, he did see the truck that hit us catch fire. When things calmed down, he asked his mom if he could go into the Walgreens to buy a bandanna to hang on the tree for us. Then he asked mom if they could stop and pray for us. Later that night he saw on the news that 3 of us (soon to be 4) didn’t make it. He was very distraught. Little Mac, that little 8 year old boy, cried himself to sleep that night thinking they died because he didn’t pray hard enough. Please stop reading for just a couple minutes and take that in. I need a moment to pull it together myself after writing that. I wrote a letter to him letting him know that his prayers DID help and how much good he did for me.
Ok, sorry for the divergence. Anyway, as I was getting ready to walk out of the store, Janice stopped me to let me know that he was there in the store with his mom. He came over to meet me and I gave him a big hug. I cried all over his mom’s shirt. (Sorry, mom!) She told me that he’s in the middle of drawing a poster for us. I vote Mac’s parents as parents of the year. They are doing something right in raising that brave little boy!
Whew! All that crying dehydrated me! I finally got the Roadrunner. There wasn’t a lot of action, so I wandered out to the back patio to see if my friend had showed up yet. No sooner do I step through the door when I hear, “Jason!” Jeesh. Some times I wish I could just fade into the crowd. The guy that runs the gift shop at the Roadrunner had spotted me. I’m a LONG ways from being a regular and I wasn’t expected, how does he know me? I had lunch with the lovely Lynn and before we could walk out, a news truck pulled up to pick up lunch and THEY spotted me. Sitting in the corner. In a dark little bar. With a hat on. I would have had trouble spotting me if I were looking for me, so how do I seem to stand out like a sore thumb? I didn’t even have one of the hi-vis t-shirts emblazoned with the “Can You See Me Now?” logo on it.
There is a lot more I could write about, and I know this is just a little snapshot of today’s events, but words don’t always come easily. It’s not mechanical. I can only write what’s in my heart, and I’ve had to store some of that up for a little bit so that I’d have something inside of me to heal. Even when it does come flowing out, it isn’t easy. It makes you very vulnerable. But that’s what you have to muscle through if you’re going to heal. You cannot keep it bottled up and push it down and pretend that you’re going to be alright. If you don’t feel everything that comes upon you and explore it and make peace with it, it will haunt you until you wise-up. Just remember, I love you.
