One Year Later...

Some of you know, and some of you don't know about the huge event that happened to me last year. On April 18th, 2009 my dad got in a terrible accident on the last day of Spring Break. It was absolutely the worst day of my life. I'd tried writing about it before, but I could never get it right.

For English 2010 this semester I had to write a "personal narrative" and there was only topic worth writing about, because it changed my life so much, so I decided to try again. It is also my dad's birthday on Saturday, so I found this a perfect opportunity and incentive to write my story and give it to him as a gift. I've been working on it constantly for a week, but I wanted to make it perfect, so I couldn't give up. It's been such a difficult thing to write, but I'm finally finished. And now I want to show you what I went through.

He Was Invincible

“It’s your dad!”

He drives over every face of Moab on wheels, he conquers every mountain of sand, and he races across flat plains leaving competitors in the dust. He performs jumps as a 40 year old man that teenagers look on with envy.  With air whipping his helmet I watch my fearless father defeat everything in his path. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is invincible. He is Superman: brave, strong, flawless, unexcelled. He is a constant, unchanging force that can scare away monsters and save me from bad dreams. Nothing can harm him.

But at this moment, looking down at his motionless body lying in a river, he looks like a fallen hero from my childhood dreams. My skin turns cold as I stare down in disbelief. He is invincible.

Somehow it is real. My dad is lying face down in a stream at the bottom of the cliff, and if he is conscious or breathing, I don’t know.  Is he dead? People are rushing all around me, but I stand frozen. The scene replays in my mind.

The entire week had been dismal, but Saturday the sun was warm enough to melt away the cold from the wind. The road was wide and simple and we all felt completely safe.  We drove casually, soaking up the sun and enjoying our last day of Spring Break. Suddenly I turned the corner to see a cloud of dust rising from the direction of the river. I saw my cousin running down the trail on foot stealing glances down the ravine. My brother slid down the steep slope racing toward the river bed. What are they chasing? Has something caught fire? I wondered. I jumped off my machine and jogged toward the commotion.

Then I heard a voice yell, “Get his face out of the water!”

Someone had fallen, but who? I grabbed the first person in front of me and yelled, “Who is it? Who fell?”

“It’s your dad!”

Time slows, my vision blurs, and my hearing is muted. I stand rooted to the spot while my mind flies far away. No. It isn’t possible. No. He is invincible. My head is full of thoughts but only one moves me to action, “Go get help.” I jump on my Outlaw and speed as fast as I dare in search of cell phone service. Unable to concentrate on the curving trail my thoughts run wild.

                We were riding along Onion Creek a mere half hour before, same as always. After a quick rest stop our train of 14 started back on the trail. My dad headed the line—as always—and we trailed along in order. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure everyone was following. As he turned he twisted his handle bars slightly to the right. He glanced up and a washout in the road caught his tire and pulled him further to the side. He headed straight toward a large rock that was just off the edge of the cliff and hit it full force with his bumper. He was only going about 20 miles an hour, but it was enough that he realized, “I can’t save this.”

                He hit the rock and went flying over the handlebars while his fourwheeler fell away from him. His last thought before he lost consciousness was, “This is going to hurt.” He fell nearly 40 feet to the river below and landed spread eagle in 10 inches of water. My brother Kameron flew to his side in less than two minutes and turned him so that his face was out of the water. Kam heaved my dad’s soaking wet body up on to the bank in one solid motion, pulling him out of the stream. This 15 year old boy lifted over 300 pounds, which is nothing short of a miracle. He saved Dad’s life. As soon as Kam removed his helmet Dad took a shaky breath and awoke to the words, “Dad, Dad are you okay?”

I choke back the tears that fall from my eyes. It did happen. And I need help. I race down the trail it had taken us nearly 45 minutes to traverse, and I simply weep. I pour my heart out to my Heavenly Father and ask him to protect us and to help me be brave. I plead with him to let me keep my dad, because I can’t live without him.

As I drive I have no idea what state my dad is in. I didn’t take enough time to check in the commotion before leaving, so I’m not sure if he is conscious or breathing. My mind is racked with panic. Images explode in my mind of all of my father’s habits and quirks. I see him standing in front of his chest of drawers putting on his watch, clipping on his cell phone, and placing his wallet in his pocket, just as he does every morning. I see him sitting in his easy chair watching TV and looking at KSL.com on his laptop after he comes home from a long day at work. I see our late night talks lounging on my bed and talking about life, and boys, and problems. Will life ever be the same again?

Over the rise I spy a familiar face. Dan, my father’s friend, has come to save the day. He had gone back for oil and hadn’t seen the accident. I tearfully recounted what had occurred, and he came with me to find help. Dan flew to his Intrepid and we raced to the nearest Ranch to find a land line.

We arrive at the Ranch and I make my way shakily to the front desk while Dan calls 911. I stare into space half-listening to them speak. I realize I have been forced into survival mode where all my worries have been completely overshadowed. Nothing matters to me but the father I am trying to save. I want more than anything to take his place, to suffer this pain for him. Why couldn’t it have been me?  I want more than anything to be held tightly in my dad’s bear hug, the kind that makes you feel entirely safe and secure. The hug that assures you everything will turn out alright, even though life looks bleak now. If I had fallen then he could be there to comfort me, which would be much more bearable than this agonizing solitude. But he isn’t. And I feel as though I’m lost in the bottom of a deep well with not even a ray of sunshine on my face.

Driving back to the scene, talking with EMTs, and watching LifeFlight are all a blur. My tears and memories override all thought. They assume that he has collapsed a lung, and broken his pelvis, but we have no way to see the damage to his internal organs.

When they wheeled him away on the gurney, he looked vulnerable. He was broken, battered, and barely clinging to life. He wasn’t my dad. I looked at him and was so overcome with grief that I decided I never wanted to be happy again. Experiencing joy after having felt this depth of sorrow seemed not only impossible, but undesirable. I felt as though I couldn’t be happy until my dad was no longer in pain.

He flies away in the helicopter and I realize my worst fear. More than spiders, more than worms, more than heights, I am terrified of uncertainty. I am so afraid, not knowing if my father is going to live or die. Not knowing where the next moment will find me. Not knowing where I am going to spend the night. Not knowing is the most frightening thing in the world.

*   *   *

It has been a year since my dad’s accident. He survived a 40 foot fall, 2 surgeries, 20 days in the hospital and 54 staples in his lower back. He is a living miracle. I have felt the comfort from his bear hug, I have found my happiness again, and I lived through a few frightening days of uncertainty. Life goes on, plans change, we fall, but someone is always there to pull us up. 

Thank you for reading! -Tay

Croquet!

A Sunday game of croquet makes me think of sparkling white dresses, parasols, and enormous adorned hats. Elegant ladies and distinguished men hitting balls gracefully across the lawn in Anne of Green Gables fashion. Nothing less than paradise and a life of ease.

I have never actually played the game until last Sunday. The elegant ladies were missing, and the distinguished men were replaced by Tyson, my little brother and my dad. Instead of a peaceful, relaxed game it turned into a cutthroat round of "Run Away from Red."

Things I realized while playing Croquet:

1. Keep away from Dad. He's either bouncing off you, moving you, or coming after you as poison. Just steer clear. And don't ever let him start late and give him four hits. He made it ALL THE WAY AROUND THE COURSE, and became instant poison. Bad idea.

2. I am generally safe. I can't hit the broadside of a barn with a croquet mallet so chances of me hitting you, or anything else, are very slim. Mostly I cheat when I'm super far behind and there is no hope for me...

3. Hitting the ball "granny style" actually works, as silly as it looks. Of course I could never get it to work, but everyone else did. It's a user-error...

4. Occasionally one reaches the point of desperation in which you will try just about anything to move your ball because it just doesn't like to listen. Kameron showed us that hitting the ball pool-style doesn't work, and matting down the grass in front of your ball doesn't actually make your ball go the way you want it to either.

5. I tried holding the stick as I hit it, hoping that more momentum would be passed to the ball instead of getting lost in the stick. (Yes, I have a physics brain.) But my method didn't work and it just ended up hurting my hand. I don't recommend it. It's painful.

6. Dad taught us that sometimes vengeance isn't the answer, but when you are playing croquet, it always is. Tyson won the first round by only one hit, and so as soon as Dad became poison the second round, he was all over Tyson. He planted his ball right in front of the hoop so Tyson couldn't make it through. It was brutal, but Kam took out Dad in the end and won.

7. Boredom makes croquet exciting. I took fashionista pictures of McKenzie, and realized that croquet mallets are a perfect substitute for crutches if you have no leg beyond your knee.

8. There is no grace in bending over to hit a ball on the lawn. I'm not sure how those perfect ladies did it, but as soon as you bend over all appearances of poise  evaporate and you simply look like a noob.

9. Croquet may not be as elegant as I thought, but it's a lot more fun when you can get grass stains!

Someday I will own an enormous white hat and parasol and I will play croquet on my spacious lawn, but today being with my family is enough.

20 Minute Escape

Monday, 8:00 at night, sun is down and there is only a glimmer of light left in the sky. Jessica and Mallory come bursting into my room begging, pleading, entreating, bribing me to go swinging in the park. I have an essay to write, but it doesn't stop them. They promise to only take 20 minutes. Only 20 minutes... fine, I could manage that.

We piled into my car and set off in search of this spectacular park. 550 E 500 N--Adam's Park, I highly recommend it for anyone living in or visiting Logan. They have amazing swings! They are nice and tall for big-kid swinging and they have six! A perfect number for our apartment.

When you were in second grade do you remember getting "married" on the swings if you and someone else swung in sync? Oh, the good old days, before puberty came to mess things up. :) We repeatedly "married" each other and reminisced our childhood. Michelle was forced into a relationship with Jessica, and upon learning this she exclaimed, "No Jessica! I'm afraid of commitment!" Quote wall. Yes. We love you Michelle!

Kelsie turned up the volume on her cell phone and we listened to and belted out music. Kels and Michelle even did a little dance number to "Every Time We Touch." We sung our hearts out to the stars and let all of our worries melt away.

We slowly gravitated off the swings to the lawn where Mallory gave us cartwheel lessons. Previous to this, Jessica, Kelsie, and I couldn't do a cartwheel. I have been trying my whole life through dance classes, gymnastics, and apparently even my dad tried to teach me at some point. But I continue to flop on the ground like a dead fish.

Mallory tried to correct my horrendous form, and almost succeeded. In my attempts I pulled a muscle in my obliques, landed hard on my bad ankle, and stretched my glutes more than they have been in a long time. By the end I was aching terribly and postponed my lessons until I recovered. For the next few days I was in pain and I hobbled everywhere which just goes to show how inflexible and unfit I am. But I will do a cartwheel! Now that I'm no longer in pain we can practice. If not, Mallory will just need to come visit our 627 1/2 house this summer to help me. :)

Jessica had much success, and was coaching me by the end of the night. Congratulations Jess!

The night was gorgeous. The sky was clear and we could see the stars, and every time I attempted a cartwheel I got a good look at them. It felt so refreshing to be outside in the cool, clean grass, and I wanted so badly to grab a sleeping bag and stay the night. Parks are so wonderful and full of magic, especially at night. I just love the stars, and swings! It couldn't have been more perfect!

Our 20 minute escape quickly morphed into a 40 minute escape, but every second was worth it. I almost did a cartwheel! Thanks for convincing me to escape guys. :) --it was very needed.

*Thanks so much for the pictures Jess!!!*

#3--Have a Campfire

Lately it has been simply too gorgeous to stay inside! So I've spent hours outside everyday, having picnics, taking naps, laughing, and all that is wonderful! Rachel came to visit too and we had a simply marvelous time! We played on the grass for hours on Saturday. The initial plan was to read and relax, but as soon as I got out there I just laid down and soaked up the sun. And of course we had to have Popsicles! We have officially accomplished #15 as well. They were simply delicious! Peach is probably my favorite.

Soon enough a competition arose between Mallory and Phil to see who could do the most cartwheels in a row. Phil won at 7, and Mallory could do 6. Taylor and Jessica joined the ranks at about 0. :)

Then Rachel started to do somersaults, and tried profusely to get Mallory to do them as well. Mallory was too frightened. I must admit, I'm absolutely terrified of doing somersaults. I tried a couple years ago and I absolutely could not do them. There is something absolutely terrifying about rolling over your head. When we are children we begin fearless, but as we grow up we are told that we can't do so many things that we become afraid to do anything. That is me. With somersaults. Yes, I'm a chicken. But Rachel had no such misgivings. :)

Later that day we made a stop at LeBeau's and accomplished # 9. Yummy, yummy shakes, although mine was very chocolatey.

That night we planned a fantastic trip up the canyon for a campfire. We planned on going to Tony's Grove, but apparently there is still several feet of snow. So the boys flagged us down off the highway at a campground closer and less...freezing. After this is was our task to make sure the next cars made it to the spot safely, and so Jessica and I hopped on rocks and waited for the car to come in sight. While doing so we had an irresistible urge to dance in the middle of the road, and so we did! There weren't very many cars, but a lifetime of being taught to stay away from the road was a difficult obstacle. I felt very daring and brave. So Jess dared me to sit in the middle of the road, and we listened closely to make sure no cars were coming, and hurried to take the picture. I'm very proud of myself. I feel brave. :)

After much scheduling and changing and flagging down on the highway we managed to get most of the group there and we put together a fire and roasted hot dogs. (Pictures courtesy of Jessica Sorenson. :)

The most memorable moment of the night: There was a big snap and a hot ash flew into the air and straight at Mary. It startled her so badly that she rocked backwards, lost her balance and fell off the backside of the tree she was sitting on. We watched thinking that she would catch herself before falling but she kept going and tumbled off the side with her legs sticking straight up! It was simply hilarious!

That night I ate one of the most delicious things on the planet. S'mores with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups--warmed up heaven. I cooked my marshmallow and then borrowed the boys grill to melt the chocolate....yumm. So so so good. Thank  you Mallory! #3 is now complete! We're making good headway!

Forgotten

I discovered the amphitheater today! It was almost like walking through a lost passageway in time. The theater must have been so much fun once, full of life, and beauty and laughter. It stands vacant now, almost waiting for an audience to appear so it can give its grand performance. I can imagine the plays it once held, and the songs, and dancing.

It looks out over the valley and you can see the temple directly behind in the center of the natural setting, creating a masterpiece in nature. Once the trees perk up it will be an amazing sight! I can just imagine a song sung on the stage that would ring through the valley because of the acoustics. It's in the perfect position to project over the valley. It's so secluded that I can completely imagine myself singing songs to the stars late at night with only old brick and weathered wood to applaud. There is such wonder in this place.

There was a barren flag pole standing at the top of the rise, just above the seating area. Nothing hung from it and it was just as forgotten as the amphitheater. The rope was missing and it was tarnished from years of rain and snow. It was probably replaced by the big flag pole next to Old Main, but it still stands, resolute as ever, growing old with disuse. It was proud once, when Old Glory hung from its peak, but now it keeps an ever watchful guard over the valley.

There were several rusty doors that intrigued me. What could possibly be inside? Most were padlocked but as I reached to open one the handle turned in my hand. At first I was frightened. I wish I could open creepy old doors without my imagination running away, but my thoughts found a million scary things that could be lurking there. It took me a few moments to convince myself to open it, but in the end I succeeded. Inside were a bunch of old sprinkler pipes and other forgotten gardening supplies. It was such a relief to discover this instead of spiders and snakes and rotting things...

I found a sign that said: Contributed by the classes of 1925 and 1926 and the Federal Emergency Relief Administration 1934. I’m guessing that means it was built in 1934, so it is 76 years old! What was it intended for? I’m sure the entire graduating class of that year could fit in the seating area because the university was so small. But what was its use? I hope it was for plays and musicals and concerts!

What interesting things you can find on campus. I simply love USU, and this town of Logan.

Oh Mr. Sun! (#5--Have a Picnic)

Today was gorgeous--again! I felt like Heavenly Father made this perfect day just for me. After my last class I decided to go for a walk around campus, and I saw so many people out on the Quad enjoying the sun. I walked by Old Main Hill and wandered around until I found the amphitheater, something I have meant to do for a while. It was amazing! Tomorrow I will tell you about it. :)

I continued walking around and I spent a half an hour laying on the Quad feeling the breeze and the sunshine waft over me, and it was honestly bliss. In that moment I felt like everything will be fine. I've been worried about a lot of things, but I felt peace, which was needed. Tyson was busy studying for a test at that moment in time and so he couldn't talk to me (I know I'm pathetic), but instead of feeling alone I felt peace. Everything will work out, and I will be strengthened through these next two years. I won't be texting him constantly anymore, but I won't feel lonely. I have a connection with him that distance or time haven't broken so far, and it won't break when he leaves. I know that now, and it was a wonderful realization.

When I decided it was time to go home I felt the dread of going inside like a dead weight. Enclosed space felt like prison. I was not excited to go back to my apartment, but I went nonetheless.

Not more than a half an hour after coming home Mallory rushed in and said that it was time for a picnic. And it most definitely was. We bustled around the kitchen trying to find picnic foods and a basket. We settled for a laundry "basket" and neatly placed everything inside. Our lunch consisted of: carrots and dip, potato chips, wheat thins, strawberry-orange-banana punch, sugar cookies, and star-shaped sandwiches! It was wonderful!

We ate our delicious lunch and talked with our passing-by friends. We spent 2 hours on that blanket, basking in the sun, playing MASH, talking, making funny faces, listening to Kelsie's sound effects, and throwing grass at each other. I can't think of a better way to spend a spring afternoon!

Now, officially, we have accomplished activity #5. Success!

And now a silly unrelated tidbit. I was reading the back of Kelsie's cookie bag and it says:

Can it be said that your cookie of choice is a reflection of your personality? 

An unspoken expression of love for all things chocolatey? or crunchy? or just plain sweet?

This led me to think about my choice of cookie. So I pose a question. When given the choice between a sugar cookie, oatmeal raisin, double chocolate, a traditional chocolate chip or an Oreo, which would you choose? What does that mean about you?

My choice would be an oatmeal raisin. But sugar cookies (depending on the kind) and Oreos make a close second. So what does that mean about me? Ha ha, most likely absolutely nothing. But maybe it means that I'm traditional and old-fashioned. Which is true in many ways. :)

The cookie bag also said this:

Each day our bakers bring to life a collection of cookies so full of flavor and personality they can hardly be contained in a bag. Each one unique, each one brilliant, and each one awaiting the opportunity to be savored. Will you simply eat one? or will you allow its deliciousness to consume you?

Besides being a wonderfully written marketing tool, this bag sounds so poetic--and yummy! Who would have thought? I will definitely let delicious cookies consume me. :)

I love happy days!

Drum Roll Please...

The entire morning was spent in anticipation for the  little white envelope in today's mail, and Tyson was practically dying from suspense. He got it just minutes before my class and he hurried to call me and put me on speaker phone while he opened it. And he read:

The Edmonton Canada Mission--English Speaking
To report on: July 21

What a happy day! He's so very excited! He spent some time looking up where it was and finding out anything he could about it. He was slightly disappointed that he wasn't speaking a different language, but that just means he can be in the field quicker and not be encumbered by learning a language. I'm so excited for him!!! He leaves 5 days before my birthday, which is not so happy, but I shall overlook it. It's so great! He is going to do so much good!

And just so you know. I won. :)