"Time keeps on slippin, slippin, slippin..."

4 years ago, today, I died.

Obviously, I didn't STAY dead. Call it a miracle, which it was, call it the concerted efforts of the emergency personnel, which it was, call it nothing but the hand of God, which it certainly was.

4 years ago, today, at around 0200, I was walking home and was run over by a drunk driver, who promptly sped away from the scene.

I was at Starlite Station, where I could be found almost any given day of the week, with the same people, the same music, the same dances, just like any other week. What started out as a good night turned into anything but.

I used to have a horrible habit of drinking and driving, and one day, I realized how stupid that was and how much I was risking.We only lived about a mile and a half from the bar, so I started walking to and from, as opposed to driving. A lot of my friends were not comfortable with that, as they thought it was highly unsafe, which, in retrospect, they were right. However, walk I did. It was just like any other night at Starlite, go in, have some drinks, hang with the crew, dance with my favorite partners, have fun. Except that night, I got into a really bad argument with my girlfriend, whom, admittedly, was not a wise choice of dating material. Pissed off, and knowing that my temper and alcohol do not mix well, it was time for me to leave. I made my customary rounds, giving hugs and high fives, and walked out the door and down the steps. That is the last thing I remember from that night.

I woke up 2 or 3 days later in a hospital room, secured to the bed, in a neckbrace, unable to move anything but my eyes, my friend Nikki standing above me, holding my hand. I had no idea what happened or where I was or why I couldn't move. After the docs came in, I learned that I had been hit by a large SUV/Truck type vehicle from behind as I was walking home, and that I had fractured 3 vertebrae in my neck. The only thing I remember from that was waking up for a few seconds inside an ambulance. But at the time I didn't know it was an ambulance. I simply saw burning white light and one face. I remember hearing myself screaming, in the most unbelievable pain. That one face was one of the paramedics working on me. He had moved out of my line of sight and I screamed for him to come back, which he did. From what I was told later, I had lost quite a bit of blood from the gash in my head and the paramedics had lost me for a few seconds, somewhere near 20 or 30. This was one of the reasons they decided to call in the rescue helicopter to ferry my broken body to the only emergency center in the area capable of handling my injuries.

I only remember bits and pieces from the hospital. I remember Nikki never leaving my side. As in, she stayed with me the whole time I was there, fielded calls from concerned friends and family, and dealt with the doctors. I remember those closest to me coming to visit. I remember people I wasn't even aware I knew coming to see me. I remember the gorgeous nurses in the ICU. Of course I would remember that... :-)

30-odd staples in my head, a broken neck, and 4 years *without missing a day * of agonizing neck/back pain later, here I stand. A bit slower, a bit more stooped, a bit more stuttering, a bit more unbalanced when I walk/run, unable to do many things I used to do with ease and probably took for granted, but here I stand. I should have died that night, like many other nights. Well, technically, I did die. But by all medical and physical standards, I should have stayed dead. The chances of living through that, let alone walking, let alone functioning like a *somewhat* normal person are slim to none. In almost every other case like mine, with the same injuries, the results are much more grim.

 There is a lot I do not know, and only a few things I do know. One thing I do know is that God had his hand on me that night...like many nights before, but specifically that night. Many people ask me how I could still believe in God after all the things I've been through, seen, been a part of, etc. The simplest answer I can give is this: It is BECAUSE of what I have been through that makes me believe in God. There is no medical or physical reason why I should be able to sit here and type this story. There is no medical or physical reason why I should still be able to dance, to cycle, to play with my friends' kids, to chase the dogs around the backyard. You tell me because of the things that have happened to me, God cannot exist. I tell you, because I have survived the things that have happened to me, God certainly exists.

The second thing I do know is that time is not something we can take for granted because we never know how much time we have left. I didn't wake up that morning knowing that I would die. I didn't wake up knowing my time would run out. But for a few seconds, my time was up. I didn't have any more time to nonchalantly waste on trivial matters and frivolities. People laugh when I say "I don't have time for that shit." But I am dead serious *pun intended*. We don't have time to waste hating people. We don't have time to waste throwing away the time God has given us while we gallivant across the land, supposedly "finding ourselves," which is simply another excuse for us to be unmotivated, immature, and useless. We don't have time to waste jumping from relationship to relationship, carelessly giving our hearts and our bodies away to the next new and shiny guy or girl. We don't have time to waste being pissed off at the formerly new and shiny guy or girl for breaking our hearts. We don't have time to waste holding grudges against people who harmed us at sometime in the past. We don't have time to waste blaming everything and everyone, but ourselves, for our problems. We don't have time to waste blaming God, Allah, Fate, Luck, or the damn Easter Bunny for what happens in our lives. There are some things we can't control. But we can control how we react/respond to those things. We can control how and to what extent we let those things affect our lives. We don't have time to waste hiding our heads in the sand or running away like cowards just so we don't have to face Life and the inevitable shitstorm it drops from time to time. We don't  have time to waste being afraid and scared.

We have but only a small amount of time. Use it to it's fullest extent. Don't waste it. Don't throw it away. Live the life you love and love the life you live. Go dance with your favorite girl. Kiss the boy you love. Climb a mountain. Write a poem. Sing a song at the top of your voice in the middle of the park. Hold your loved one's hand. Finish that degree. Open that store. Write that book. Run that race. Do all the things you are afraid to do. I don't know how much time I have left. Neither do you. So don't let it slip you by.