World's
End. I'm sitting here in my wheelchair looking at World's End. It's a
spot on the Hudson that they named. It is the narrowest and deepest
part of the Hudson. World's End. My parents house overlooks this
spot. I'm on the porch looking at it. How apropos. Sometimes I feel
like my world, as I knew it, has come to an end and a new one is
starting. Remember when I said before, one door closes, another opens.
The only constant in life is change. You have to adapt. You see, my
world has changed. You look at it with a different point of view. I
try to be positive. I'm here at home where I live with my parents. I'm
spending a lot of time with my parents. Painting with my Dad.
Overlooking the cooking with my Mom. It's cool. A lot of fun, but I do
miss my daughter.
When you have Traumatic Brain Injury it's really important to have friends and family visit you. The other day my old track team and coach stopped by to say hi. We sat around all morning just talking. Then we had lunch. At lunch we started talking again. I had to stop the conversation. I said, "Whoa, whoa, back up. We used to sit around and talk about girls. Now we talk about our ailments and poop. Man, we are getting old. Let's talk about girls. I don't think I have the energy."
Let's lighten things up and talk about an action adventure story. It happened when I was young. I was with my family flying from Brussels to New York City. We were on a 747 fully loaded. Halfway down the runway, on takeoff, we had a bird strike on engine #2 (bad timing). Anyway, the pilot was amazing. We barely got off the ground, and with a series of dips and turns, with the engines revving, he managed to bring the plane around for landing. But before we landed, a guy sitting next to engine #2 started screaming. He freaked everyone out. They all started screaming. Next thing you know, the flight attendants are telling us to take the emergency position. You know, put your arms on your legs, put your head down, brace yourself for impact. I remember my father saying I love you, don't worry, it will be quick. I thought, what the hell is he talking about? What's going on? I was only 11. Anyway, we landed safely, took the emergency exits off the plane which smelled like fuel because the pilot had to drop all the fuel before landing. We went back to the departure lounge and reluctantly waited for the next flight home. Well, it wasn't my time to go. Just luck. I guess you would call that good luck.
When you have Traumatic Brain Injury it's really important to have friends and family visit you. The other day my old track team and coach stopped by to say hi. We sat around all morning just talking. Then we had lunch. At lunch we started talking again. I had to stop the conversation. I said, "Whoa, whoa, back up. We used to sit around and talk about girls. Now we talk about our ailments and poop. Man, we are getting old. Let's talk about girls. I don't think I have the energy."
Let's lighten things up and talk about an action adventure story. It happened when I was young. I was with my family flying from Brussels to New York City. We were on a 747 fully loaded. Halfway down the runway, on takeoff, we had a bird strike on engine #2 (bad timing). Anyway, the pilot was amazing. We barely got off the ground, and with a series of dips and turns, with the engines revving, he managed to bring the plane around for landing. But before we landed, a guy sitting next to engine #2 started screaming. He freaked everyone out. They all started screaming. Next thing you know, the flight attendants are telling us to take the emergency position. You know, put your arms on your legs, put your head down, brace yourself for impact. I remember my father saying I love you, don't worry, it will be quick. I thought, what the hell is he talking about? What's going on? I was only 11. Anyway, we landed safely, took the emergency exits off the plane which smelled like fuel because the pilot had to drop all the fuel before landing. We went back to the departure lounge and reluctantly waited for the next flight home. Well, it wasn't my time to go. Just luck. I guess you would call that good luck.
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