In Hope Of A Better Explanation

I told my wife once that a part of me died as a result of the accident and she freaked out a little. Here’s the thing; it seems at times as though a part of me never made it past lying on the side of the road at the accident sight…just a part of me. It’s kind of hard to verbalize, but I’m giving it a shot here.

Something inside of me died that day that I can’t seem to get back fully. It was a part of me that subconsciously believed that I would always be OK. It was a part of me that always believed that I was greater than the potential for absolute catastrophe. It was a part of me that continued to see each day with an absolutely care-free attitude that never acknowledged my physical well-being or anything that my body could ever be subjected to. It was a part of me that could commit to any physical activity without hindrance or limit. 

Days are different now in how I live them out and in how I look to the future. My life’s days used to involve waking, doing, and finishing. They still do to a great extent, but now they also involve surviving and acknowledging a bigger picture involving potential circumstances, inevitable consequences, and God’s involvement in it all. In a very strange sense I feel more alive while also feeling less alive.

In truth, the amount of injuries inflicted upon my body at one time tend to play with my head a little. In a limited sense they serve to remind me that I’m very much a mortal, and that my mortality is based on a degree of exposure to everything that this world can inflict upon me. The guy that rode his bike to get a haircut on the morning of my accident didn’t think that way, but he’s gone now.