Heaven in the Headlights

The sky was that clear blue color, the kind that made the beach calm and yet somehow alive in contrast with the peachy tan sand. I could’ve stayed out on the water all day gripping a hundred something horse power in my salt water hands taking Taylor and I in and out of buoys all over the place. Everyone was having a good time. The waves started to get a little choppy though, so Taylor and I had decided to head back. We were going slow. It didn’t matter, but thinking back I guess it helped. We flew off a wave, I knew that we were going to, but I didn’t realize the size of it or how deep the trough was between this wave and the next. The nose hit straight down at the very base of the next wave and Taylor and I were flung forward into each other, her chin into my vest, my chest into the middle of the handlebars. I heard the crack but I felt fine. I convinced myself it had to have been the sound of the buckles colliding with the hard fiberglass of the waverunner. I took a deep breath to calm down but I couldn’t breath. It felt like someone had taken a ten pound wrench pulled it back behind their back and flung it with all their might into the middle of my rib cage. I still held on to that sound as Taylor slid me back and took over the throttle bringing us back to shore, back to dad.
The ride to the hospital was long. In my previous experience with hospitals everything seemed like a blur, but not this trip. I didn’t miss a beat. Every movement, every deep breath was punctuated by a deep pain rising from my core and radiating out from my breastbone. At one point I looked up, my right hand was in Mom’s hand, my left in Dad’s. Taylor, Karie, and Val were along the foot of the bed and the doctor and nurse poked their heads through the pale green curtain enclosing us. I knew I was safe. I’m so blessed to have such loving family and friends. They are the reason I’ve been making such a speedy recovery.
So now, safe in my beautiful blue room with sunlight glinting through my white eyelit curtains revealing the beautiful flowers from Grandma Gray and Fauquier Hospital, with a thick book on my bedside I know how lucky I truly am. Thank you to everyone who has been so helpful in my recuperation. Your concern and care is much appreciated.

pictures soon.