rollover

exactly one year ago dad and i rolled the Highlander.
was that the scariest moment of my life? yes.

when i close my eyes:
i can still hear dad yelling 'oh no! oh no!' over and over
i can still visualize looking across dad out the driver side window and watching as the reflector pole and the ditch got closer and closer.
i can still feel what its like to get jolted around as the car started rolling.
i can still remember waking up from getting knocked out and freaking out because i couldn't unbuckle my seat belt because i was hanging on it.
i can still see the roof of the car underneath me, littered with our possessions. like wallets, cell phones, cameras, etc.
i can still remember the relief i felt as i heard a stranger ask if we were okay or if anyone was hurt. and i remember the disbelief in his voice as we said no one was injured.
i can still remember the hysteria i felt as i walked away from that car, a strangers arm wrapped around me as i started sobbing.
i can still see the bottom of the car angled against the mountain, wondering how we survived.
i can still remember how badly i just wanted to go back down to that car and stay with my dad until they could get him out.
i can still feel the calm steadiness i felt as we rode in the ambulance, dad strapped to the board/stretcher, i answering as many questions as i could.
i can still feel the impatience, waiting and waiting for the doctors to tell us what happened with dad... if he can finally be unstrapped from the cart, and if we will be able to leave.
i can still hear my thoughts, wondering when i should call mom and tell her what had happened to us.
i can still see my reflection in the ER bathroom mirror, all the little scratches and bruises and dirt.
i can still hear the ER nurse telling us her husband was the one who towed the car from the site, and he had called to ask if anyone had even survived the accident.
i can still feel the tears coming as i tried to tell my mom on the phone that we'd rolled the car.
i can still visualize dad and i in the waiting area of the hospital. exhausted. sore. in shock. talking through the accident.
i can still feel the tiny pieces of glass i pulled/combed out of dad and my hair.

there are moments of that day i know i will never forget. and that's okay. i know that accident made me a stronger person. and i know it has brought dad and i closer together in a way i may never understand.

i will forever be grateful for:
the semi truck that must've seen us rolling down the hill and flashed his lights at the next car he passed.
the couple that saw the truck flash their lights, see us, stop and help us. and for the fact that they were a newly graduated nurse and a deputy.
the random guy in a short sleeve shirt, shorts, and boots who broke a bush so i could climb out my window.
the same nurse lady, who calmed me down as i hit hysteria, let me sit in her car, wear her jacket, and ask me questions to keep my mind off the accident.
all of the men who came up with a way to stabilize the car on the boulder, so they could pry dads door open and get him out.
the moment i saw my dad flop out of the car and finally sit right side up, instead of on his neck.
my aunt and uncle for picking us up, letting us stay with them for a few days, and putting up with our extreme mood changes those few days.
my brother for also putting up with our mood changes, for going and getting all of my stuff from the totaled car, and for taking pictures that thankfully didn't turn out (so we can't be traumatized by the real thing)
my sister-in-law for also putting up with our mood changes, taking me to the ER again to get my head checked out (we didn't realize till after being discharged that i had been knocked unconscious), for standing up for me when the dr didn't believe there's no way i could be pregnant (way long/funny/frustrating story)
my computer for hitting me in the head so i blacked out and can't remember it all
that dad waited until there was no oncoming traffic before trying to pass, or we would've been hit and who knows what would've happened.
my life. everything i've been able to do that i almost couldn't do.
my father. for the great man he is, and the blessing it is that he was unharmed (he just had a tense neck for a few weeks) and is still here with us.

a lot has happened in the last year. a lot of good. some not as good. i'd like to think having a near death experience has helped me see how important things are, and i know i am trying not to take things and people for granted because i don't know when i or they could not be here.

i hope you don't find this post depressing. and i hope you didn't find it overly dramatic. that's not how i meant it.

love you.