Four months. It has been four months since my accident. Four months since I almost left this life behind under the oil pan of a Hyundai. What, beside living, do I have to show for it? A bum ear and astronomical medical bills - thats it.
It is like being in high school all over again. “Mom, can I use the car?” I have to ask just to go to Wal-Mart or to see my friends. My entire social life is 45 minutes away. Am I expected to just sit around and let life pass me by? I am supposed to be recovering, I get that. But part of recovering is getting back to your regular life, doing the things you enjoy, and seeing the people who make you happy. Morale.
Everyone says I was saved, that I’m a miracle, that I’m here for some higher purpose. Because by all accounts, I wasn’t supposed to survive. But I did and now I am here. Well what reason is that? To ask for permission to go to the store? To be dependent on other people to get me where I need to go? I don’t think sitting around and twiddling my thumbs is a good reason to be saved.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am happy to be alive because God knows I wasn’t ready to go. But I would like some sort of a clue from God, Allah, Buddha, Shiva, or the Ancestors as to why the hell I’m still here. As to what my so called purpose is, why was I saved? Because right now I feel like a hamster on a wheel, running but getting nowhere.
