On Memorial Day Weekend ten years ago, my life changed forever. I am a better person for what I experienced. I’ll never be able to truly express my gratitude and appreciation to my family and friends for the role you all played, and continue to play, in my life since the night when I nearly died. 
So, I’ll use this anniversary to reflect on my memories of the weeks and months following that fateful night. 

I remember:
-Pat Schmid’s navy blue SICBP windbreaker hanging in my room at HUP;-my friends, who visited me in the hospital and my parents’ basement and treated me as they always had. We laughed, we joked, and I never felt that you were leaving me behind. One of the most important motivating factors in my recovery was the tangible feeling that my friends were waiting for me to rejoin the  group(s);

-Karen Connors’s gift of a pink flamingo lawn decoration with “Sea Isle Ice” written along the side. Thanks, KC;

-my dad’s gifts to me while at BMRH- blenderized pizza or mac n cheese, because, due to my tracheotomy, I could not yet eat solid food;

-Tom Burke strolling into my room at BMRH, saying that he would have hung out sooner, but he was fighting pirates on a Navy ship. Yeah, I know- Freedom isn’t free;-my benefit – the single greatest outpouring of love that I have ever felt;

-when I went to bars in the years after the accident, Terry Donahue or Pat Brady (to single two guys out) would clear a path for me and/or ensure that I had a drink anytime one was needed. There are so many people that looked out for me. I cannot begin to thank you all.  I would be remiss not to highlight Casey Gerlach’s method to secure a chair for me at the bar- Tap, Tap on the shoulder … “Dude, do you mind if my boy takes your seat? He’s handicapped.”  I scored a seat every time;

-one day, when I was still in the wheelchair, mom and I went to the Springfield Mall. We pulled into the parking lot and passed by several spots reserved for handicapped persons. I told mom that we had a placard and that she should pull into one of those spots upfront. She looked at me and said, “You’re not handicapped. You’re fine;”

-my parents and sister have never once made me feel like I’ve burdened their lives by my stupid actions on the night of the accident. I am forever grateful and indebted to you for the emotional turmoil and multitudinous sacrifices made on my behalf. 

Life has rolled on since Memorial Day Weekend of 2005. Marriages, kids, and relocations have decreased the frequency of the times spent with everyone whom I owe my life. Know that I love you all. I have the greatest network of family and friends for which I could ever ask. You are the best.