Eight

Do you ever think about what your life would look like as a movie? I was thinking about that in the shower this morning. I do my best thinking in the shower, so of course my movie life was wildly exciting. It was only after I got out that I realized my movie would be less of a blockbuster action movie and more of a slow, character-development type like one of those foreign movies where the actors are ugly and there's no real resolution to it. In my movie life, Renee Zellweger would play me, only it would be the chubby Renee with the chubby cheeks. She would have to put on about 20 or 30 pounds for the role like she did for Bridget Jones' Diary.

I was thinking about my movie partly because today is my eighth anniversary of my car accident that paralyzed me. Every year on this day I'm in the habit of glancing at the clock and thinking about where I was at exactly that time on the day of my accident:
6:30 a.m. - Driving through the misty San Luis Valley
7:30 a.m. - Walked into 7-11 in Walsenburg to get coffee and cigarettes
7:40 a.m. - Put my seatbelt back on
8:25 a.m. - Sliding toward the side of the road, rolling... rolling...

It's the same every year, no matter where I am or what I'm doing. I always watch the clock. Years ago, I naively thought that, after a certain point, it would get easier... That Year 8 or Year 12 would turn into just another day. But paralysis' plan of attack is to constantly remind you of your limitations. There is no 'moving on' when you can't ever reach the plates on the top shelf and can't get in your best friend's house because there are stairs.

My movie will open in the basement of my cousin's house because all good movies need proper foreshadowing. I'm in the basement with my cousin and I see an old wheelchair in the corner. I sit in it, attempt to wheel myself around, and give up exclaiming that I could never be in a wheelchair. Too much work, I say. What a perfect opening scene! And my movie begins, irony and all. Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs! And with that, the opening credits roll.

My movie will have a large cast, complete with evil characters. If I'm not really insistent on sticking to the facts, I could cast Gary Oldman as a lunatic who is trying to kill me. I'd prefer to keep it somewhat true to form though. Hmmm...I may need help with my cast.

Eight years is a long time. But out of all the years, this past one has been the most productive for me. I've learned how to do a few things that have made me less dependent on others. I haven't figured out the middle or a good ending for my movie yet. But if it's truly like a foreign film, it can just stop abruptly anywhere in the story. But I'm sure it will be a happy ending of sorts. I'm open to suggestion.

UPDATE - I never expect others to remember this date, not even my friend who was driving. It's a personal thing, one that I don't discuss much with others. But every year, my father, without fail, buys me a big bouquet of flowers. We never talk about it, but it's nice to know that someone else thinks about it, too.

~December 20, 1998~

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