There is a period in my life which I don't like to look back on.
Have you ever had an event that defined you? Consumed you, body and soul? Yeah, me too.
July 25th, 1997.
I witnessed the tragic death of our 5 year old neighbor. He was in my charge, and I was to help him get his bike and bring it back across the street to our house. It all happened so quickly--one moment he was next to me, the next he was on his bike out on the busy street... and a fire truck came barreling down at 60 mph, no siren, just lights blazing.
Taylor didn't stand a chance.
I may write more about what happened, one day. I was almost hit actually.
But this post is about how far I've come since that accident. To sum up 6th and 7th grade: I was unable to function. Total fear, overwhelming anxiety, and deep solitude. I'm not sure it is healthy for an 11 year old to ponder mortality.
At the end of 6th grade my parents decided it was time to move. Being in the house right next to the accident spot took a huge toll on my mental health. There was only one house for sale in the town, and they took it. They didn't know how they were going to make the house payment, but for my sake they knew they needed to make that change.
We call it the "Healing House." It was perfect. On a corner lot, one street was a complete dead end and the other only used by residence in the neighborhood.
My mom says that on moving day I stood out in the street joyfully saying, "I'm in the middle of the street, and no one can get me!"
Since the anniversary of the accident was yesterday, and I'm in the same place that it happened 14 years ago, I've been thinking a lot about where I am now compared to where I was then. I still have anxieties with roads (I think dear friends, y'all can attest to that), but I'm able to function when next to one. I no longer cry or get upset when talking about the accident, and I feel okay with it--no deep seeded regrets.
And I have these boys that help me look to the future.
