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The Soldier and the Squirrel introduces children to the Purple Heart

through a loving story of a friendship between a newly wounded soldier

and Rocky the squirrel with his backyard friends. This story began as a

blog during my first year in bed after my incident. With much

encouragement, it is now a book and has been placed in the

Ronald Reagan Presidential Library & Museum. Please watch the video

on the About page to learn for the Soldier & Rocky are changing children's

lives.

 

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Monday
Oct282013

Closure And The Key

Johanna's head went through the rear window. Glass clawed her shoulder blades down to the bone. Her seatbelt clung without letting go, fracturing her pelvis. Jaws of life set her free. My friend and I were separated by shattered steel and leather seats - erupting with bloody stumps of cloth. I was already in the ambulance. What year is this. Who is the president. What is your name. The year was 1988. The year we almost died.

Closure is a difficult thing when you cannot find the key. Twenty-five years passed since the night I released a guttural wail to the sky. A sky so black it ate the planets whole. The night our car turned inside out. To this day I am unable to be in any moving vehicle without pressing into my seat, convinced I am going to die. Train, planes and automobiles. If I am not in control of the movement, any odd noise is a precursor to catastrophe.

I could not face the driver again. But I wanted so much to see Johanna. My friend.

Then Facebook came along and our reunion began.

Then my current challenge took my life and shred it whole. Like the stuffing from the seats so many years ago. And we knew that it was time to make us whole.

I rolled into the lobby where we were set to meet. A tall and gliding figure reminiscent of my friend swooped around the corner to me. She knew me from my chair. My arms out-stretched to her. Her eyes still twinkled the same as when we were kids. When we stared at the moon and wished upon shooting stars. We are forever bound by misfortune - a friendship designed by fate. She held me so tightly I could not let her go. Years of wonder stirred in my mind. How could so many years blind us to tears. She had flown out to help me in my time of need. But also to hold me and set us both free - from a nightmare we shared every day.

We talked endlessly about what we recalled. I remembered it all. Every flip of the car is tattooed in my heart.

And yes we talked of tattoos.

She drove me to my doctor appointments and took care of my every need. And for the very first time, I hold the lock to releasing our past, and have finally found the key.

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