An auto accident takes away the person I was and gives me a second chance at life.
This was our home for about 30 years.
Mom was dying; stage four ovarian cancer and Dad had recently been hospitalized with heart problems. That was my impetus to move from the small quaint village back to the city I grew up in. At that time I had only a few days left to work at the retail pharmacy I had been at for seven years. The village I was leaving much to soon sat nestled in the mountains. Watching the huge white moon rise over the black cold lake from my deck was one of my favorite pastimes. Like in the movies, I could lie at night and listen to the different shrills of the loons. It was worth giving this up so I may be near my Mom for her final months. My dilapidated apartment in the city was already rented and was just three houses away from my old home.
Snow fell in a heavy constant rate, covering the road and everything in sight with six inches of white mush by the time I got out of work. Truthfully, I was often a fast driver, and on occasion still am: that night however I took my time, my mind was on Mom. I freely, no proudly, admit I was, am, a Momma’s boy. To be safe that night I drove well under the speed limit, had the fog lights on, and was using four studded snow tires in my new 1991 VW bright green GTI. As I turned the gentle corner of Route 16 a battleship of a car being driven well over the speed limit by an elderly woman came sliding sideways across both lanes sideways.
It’s funny what thoughts, and how many of them, can cross your busy mind in a millisecond. Just before impact, as I looked at the stunned driver’s eyes of the offending vehicle, my last thought was: This is going to hurt. The sound scraping, fingernails on a chalkboard sound is the last thing I remember as the man once called Chris. The first impact tore the muscles and ligaments from the right side of my neck and bunched them all together. Then my large head made contact with the middle pillar of the cute little car and I lost consciousness. The worse was just a half breath away as my car careened unobstructed into a telephone guy wire that creased its way through the front bumper right on through the sizzling radiator. This caused my body, and more importantly, my head, to twist and crash into the passenger side of the car, tearing away at the left side of my neck, lower back, and precious brain.
Far out bloke – I’m not sure why you get in a car anymore 
Thanks for sharing such a personal story. Also admirable how you find that you are a better person for it, even though you suffer constant pain.
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