Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Which is why whenever any hint of it is ever brought up, I play dumb. I know nothing.
Why?
Because I don’t want to remember those times. They were dark. There is nothing good that will come from going there. I don’t need my mom feeling guilty for the years before Boomer. I don’t need my brother feeling like he didn’t protect me from the scars. And I don’t want Boomer to ever feel like he hasn’t given his all to taking away our pain.
The same thing is relevant to my accident. There are things I remember. A lot of memories, actually. I don’t want to talk about it. Therefore, it is better for everyone around me to think I don’t remember. Some things are truly better left unsaid.
In the beginning, I didn’t know what happened. It was like this mental block I couldn’t push past. Only as time went on, those moments all came back. Some days I wish they hadn’t.
That is a big thing for me, not dragging anyone else down with me. This misery in my mind, it’s my own to battle. I know my accident has affected my family. If they knew what went on in my head, there is no doubt it would hurt everyone closest to me.
I won’t do that.
They have had enough trouble and change because of me and this accident.
Sitting here knowing what could have been, no what should have been, I’m struggling to maintain the bravado. The mind is a tricky place to be. Everyone talks about safe spaces. Well, my mind is not always my safe space.
When I go over that day, that ride, it turns into if only. My mind is a prison I can’t ever get released from. A death sentence all its own.
If only, I had reacted quicker.
If only, I stayed at the previous stop in the poker run a few minutes more.
If only, I had ridden to the outside of the lane.
If only, I had traded in my bike the week before like I was considering.
If only, I bought new tires when I decided not to trade it in.
If only, I changed to heavier bags it would have given more weight to the back end of my bike.
The list goes on and on. But not one if only changes my reality.
The reality that is very much a challenge as a man today.
From the moment Boomer came into our lives, my brother and I have been engulfed in the Hellions motorcycle club world. When I came too from the accident, they were all crowded around. Not one of them or their family members have even considered not sticking by my side to see me through. Today is the day I’m not just Boomer’s son. Today I earn the final rocker. Today I’m his brother in a club that has been our family from the moment he accepted us as his own so did everyone in the club.
Needing to connect with something, needing to hold onto something from before the accident was this process. I always knew I would join. Granted, I expected it to be after retirement. When my career ended, I needed this. I lost my Army life, but I didn’t lose my family. I knew how to solidify my place. To belong again and to have this goal to work towards.
Prospecting.
After the accident, I didn’t just lose my legs. I lost my job as a Paratrooper in the Army getting an honorable discharge but knowing it was because I was no longer considered fit for duty was a whole different mind fuck. I lost the ability to walk, to ride my motorcycle, and to even drive a car without adaptations. I couldn’t get around my house with my wheelchair. When I bought it, I certainly didn’t expect to need handicapped accessible features. I definitely wasn’t jumping from aircrafts anymore. I wasn’t doing shit the easy way ever again. All the things I took for granted were suddenly a daily battle. Hell, I had to learn how to balance safely to wipe my ass. Literally almost everything in my life changed.
What stayed the same?
The Hellions and my place here amongst them.
Once I came out of rehab and figured out day to day life, I knew I was going to prospect. This is the only thing that has kept me going since the accident.
Scrubbing toilets after the parties, did that shit with a smile. Getting some crazy coffee order and delivering it one by one to each ol’ lady, did that shit too with a fucking smile. Anything and everything asked of me, I took care of with the same focus I did with every mission of my military career.
Why then am I struggling to smile today when it’s all right here about to happen?
Because I feel the weight of what could have been.