Sunday, January 22, 2012

Scars Tell A Story

    Every time I sit in the theater watching a movie with all the excitement and loud noises. I look at my sister and see the excitement in her eyes as the loud bang rings the whole theater. It puts a smile on my face every time I see her smile. Deep down inside tho, I feel like I am not normal. I plug one side of my ear because the loud noises bring back a memory.....a very frightening memory I don't remember much about. Everyone has scars that have a story behind it. People always ask me, "How did you get the scars on yer face and the top of you head?" Numerous times I have been uneasy about telling them how i got them, but here goes my story.
     
        In the summer of 1996 I was on my way with my grandpa and my two uncles to Holbrook, riding in the back seat of a blue Toyota truck. It was very early in the morning and one of my uncles were . A truck was heading to the reservation on the opposite lane. As the truck approached my uncle dozed off at the steering wheel and smashed into the other truck. Sitting in the back with me was my uncle Orlando who was holding me, my uncle Shawn in the driver side, and my grandpa Bennett sitting in the passenger side. Upon impact i was immediately ejected through the window. My uncle struggling to get free came and picked me up. A semi-truck driver who was on his way back from the reservation stopped and called an ambulance. Bloody and screaming i was rushed to the hospital in Flagstaff. With a huge gash on top of my head and my face were stitched up along with a cast on my left leg. My mother, father, and grandparents stayed with me the whole week I was in the hospital. Doctors said I was lucky to be alive, but I believe I was given a second chance.
     
     When I look in the mirror or watch a movie it reminds me of that day. My scars tell my story of how fortunate and lucky I am to still be alive. Getting the chance to graduate, go to college, and see my sister grow up are one of the many things I am very grateful for. We never get the chance to be grateful for the friends or family that have done many things to help us be who we are today. I am sure grateful for people that I have met especially my family for pushing me and giving me the support I need to finish school. If it weren't for the truck driver we would have never been spotted and I probably wouldn't have been here today. My grandfather told me that I am a very special person and thoughts enter my head from time to time, but these are the scars that tell my story and they will be with me forever.

2 comments:

  1. Ian,
    This was such a beautiful blog. While I was reading I got goosebumps as I pictured you as a young child being ejected from the vehicle. Your scars tell a remarkable story, a miracle. You are so lucky to have lived but also lucky to know that you were given a second chance. It is wonderful that you were able to take your accident and turn it into your motivation. You talk about your grandfather quite a bit and it seems like you value all of the things he tells you, this is very special. Thank you sharing this story. I am glad that you feel comfortable enough to share this with us.
    With Love,
    Elizabeth Danielle Perry

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  2. Wow, that is a deep blog you wrote and it was so amazing. I have a scar that I got when I was in pre-school and needed stitches, I remember being pushed off the monkey bars then rushed to the hospital with my mom and uncle but that's about it. And I agree with grandfather that you are special, as well as everyone else they just don't know it. & thanks for sharing an event that is close to you.
    ~Mayne

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