It was early in morning (around 3 a.m.) on November 17th 2006 as I awaken (but at the time didn’t know I was unconscious) to find myself upside down in a crushed can of a van. I was driving home from a concert and my car had flipped off the side of the freeway and for the record, I never drink, never do drugs, and never will. I was only three exits from house. Everything in the car had flown out and was scattered alongside the freeway like leaves during Fall. My poster, cell phone, Ipod, blankets were the last thing on my mind.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbed my friends shirt (I bought it for him at the concert), and crawled out the window. I made my way up to the freeway, I was a good 15 feet in a ditch off the side of the freeway. With my arm sprained, my head as swollen as a balloon, and my mind as dazed and dizzy as a drunk, I tried to wave someone down to help me. No one stopped. I do not blame them though, with the way I looked and the accident not visible to the drivers, I do not think I would have stopped either, even though I would like to believe I would. After coming to the conclusion that my cell phone was gone, and no one was going to stop for me, I headed for the next freeway exit to ask for help at a gas station. Along the way, I spotted a call box and used it to get help.
I was so worried for my parents reaction, I thought they were going to be upset with me, be disappointed in me, but when my dad got there, it was the exact opposite. My parents decided to take me to the hospital themselves. On the ride there, there was no I-told-you-so’s or any lectures. They worried for me. The only things they said were, “How I was doing“, “What happened?”, and “What hurts?” I always knew they cared, and they had shown me this a million times before but, something had clicked this time.
When I had returned to school, my best friend Mike, the one whose shirt I grabbed from the accident, had made it clear how he felt. I was told that he was almost brought to tears to here of my incident. That’s something you can not fake.
Family means so much to me, but family means many different things to many different people. To me, it doesn’t just fall under the category of blood relatives or immediate family. What family is, is people who honestly and truly will be there for you. They have your back, when life is almost to much to take. They are there when you need the support and they tell you what you need to hear rather than what you want to hear. It runs deeper than my veins. It is more than just words. It is the things unsaid and unspoken. I would give up everything for it. Family I believe is everything to me.
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