My parents and immediate family have extensive notes from both my accident and my time in Colorado. The first book of notes extensively details everyone who visited me during my stay at Saint Francis in Tulsa. They not only listed who came to visit but also who called to check in. Let me tell you, it's astounding. So many friends and family, not only of mine but of my parents, came to visit. I just went through it yesterday and I confess that I do not know all of the names in there. And yet they came to support me and my family.
While I was drugged up and numb most of my time there my parents were left mostly in a waiting room. If it weren't for these visits then I'm sure their already worried states of mind would have evolved into full blown psychoses. A coworker of my dad's even brought a home cooked Sunday dinner packed into a suitcase for them; complete with plates and silverware. This is friendship.
While I was in Colorado I had almost weekly visitors from home. Almost every weekend someone came to visit. Family, friends, fellow members of First Baptist Church - Tulsa; they all made the journey to see me. As a teenager whose Senior year of high school had been interrupted I am sure you can understand how important it was to see them all. I desperately missed home and dreamed all week every week for news from home.
Not only did so many people come and see me but I had care packages, post cards, gifts, and a lot more sent to me. It was more than a little overwhelming. People I had never met were sending me movies and books to keep my spirits up during rehab. Kirsten and my two best friends at the time were always getting news of my days and spreading the word at school. I knew that when I finally made it home that I would be blown away by how many people knew everything about me.
Every day my mom would call and talk to my aunt about what I had done that day and the progress I had made. My aunt would then email it to a list of people who had asked to be updated. Those people would then forward the emails to everyone they knew and prayer groups. The outpouring of support that I got was absolutely enormous. I know the success that I had at the time was due to their prayers and support.
Such support is vitally important to someone who has been through such a traumatic experience. I had been hurt, disabled, and flung across the country away from almost everyone that I knew. I was young and had been completely stripped of my independence. In these situations support is the most important thing of all for not only the physical strength and will power necessary to physically recover, but also to recover emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
I could very easily have given up and discarded my faith as a hoax. I mean what kind of God would cripple an 18 year old man with so much ahead of him? A God who knows, that's who. A god who knows what is to come and what path I will follow if left without a guiding event.
We all have an events that set the tone for periods of our lives; for better or for worse. My accident continues to define me. Not because of what I lost, but because of what I became aware of that I had. The outpouring of support and the things that have happened to me since make my injury well worth it. I would not undo it if I could. I have known that since it happened and have never questioned that sentiment.
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