This I Believe

When I was in my early 20′s I lived one day at a timea I didn’t consider it a trait or a blessing. It was just something natural, that I didn’t plan or set my mind toa Something present yet unnoticeable like soft elevator music.

Back then a flirty curiosity tickled inside me. I wanted to discover everything I didn’t know. It was then when I traded college for theater, traveled to Europe, and fell madly in love each week. Back then I devoured books, drank too much wine, and cried like a baby maybe too many times. What a mess! I would embrace exhilaration and disappointment with the same gut wrenching passion.

Meanwhile, my parents were shaken and confused by my behavior and although I worried about hurting them, I honestly didn’t know how to live any other way.

But growing up happened to me too.

My 30′s came and found me serene and proper, organized by days and hours like a predictable agenda. Numbers ruled the day. Bills were paid on time, deadlines were met, my credit score rose by a 100 and my bank account grew ceros to the right. My mind operated on the horizon, always set on the future, on the days when I’d be thinner, richer or happier.

My goals required determination to forego anything that would distract me from the illusion of tomorrow. I gave up birthday parties on weeknights, wine, and carbs. I loved my boyfriend slowly and comfortably without all the pain and passion of a steamy love affair. The present did not exist; only preparedness for a perfect future, one that seemed to me like a light plastic ball floating over the watera With me pushing it further and further away as I tried to reach it.

One day I was in my car, my mind probably far away into time when another car smashed against my left door, crumbling my pelvis to bits, shattering the life I knew like a fragile piece of glass.

For days I lay on a bed unable to move, for months I needed help to eat, shower and get dressed.

During my recovery I became overwhelmed thinking about all the things I had misseda All the laughter I traded for worries, all the love I traded for fear. I did nothing but cry and sleep.

So I cried an slept till my eyes hurt and then one day I stumbled upon something precious: I was there. I was living my pain, and I was living it as intensely as I could.

That day I recalled my long unused skill of embracing today. I remembered how before I wouldn’t loose my time remembering or planning; I would just live.

It’s been months since my accident and ever since that day I’ve vowed to seize the moment. Now it’s not as easy as before… Now is a decision. It’s a plan. It’s a promise I’ve made to myself.

In this past month I’ve watched the sunset twice, I’ve been kissed on the water, I’ve danced until sunrise, I’ve grabbed my little niece and given her more kisses than I could ever count, I’ve said I love you to all those I love and I have thanked God for giving me a second chance to live this life he gave me, as happily as I can.