Happy Anniversary

“So what can I tell you?

If life's the length of this play,

Perhaps God gave the answers…

To those with nothing to say

But then the years are forgiving,

If God's forgiving in kind;

Perhaps we'll all find our answers somewhere in time.

I've been changing,

Redefining,

All the things I thought I knew…

So long ago,

When I was flying,

Through those years that seem so far away.

In the back of a reason,

In the back of my mind;

Where I've piled up the seasons,

That I've traded for times.”
--Jon Olivia of Savatage from the song Somewhere In Time, from the album Streets, 1991.

Some people remember anniversaries of positive things; while others remember tragedies. Some folks celebrate on anniversaries, some honor, some mourn, and some avoid the occasions altogether.

Today is the anniversary of having a stroke. It was one year ago when I sat with Uncle Dan at Medici’s, drank one beer, started slurring, lost control of my left arm, was told to lay down, was rushed to the hospital, was given a progressive procedure that went through my femoral artery through my heart and into the brain with a vacuum on the tip which sucked the 100cc clot out of my brain, made jokes with Jen and my sister Karen when checking into ICU, and began to recover.

Honestly, if a procedure or medical mishap could be a blessing, this was it. It sobered me up, it forced a healthier lifestyle, it gave me an appreciation for those around me, and it strengthened me spiritually and emotionally.

It could have gone worse.

I could have died or been left debilitated. When I originally whined “why me?” in a selfish way, I later asked the question a more philosophical way; I pondered why was I left basically unscathed with minimal residual affects? Why me? I have seen others and trust me, as far as stroke patients go, my story is absolutely miraculous.

So today, I was fairly cautious, as the anniversary is a bit of a reminder of my fear. I went past my principal and assistant principal at work and remarked that it was my anniversary of a rebirth. The principal asked if I was going to go and celebrate. The idea never popped into my head to celebrate the event. “No,” I said, “I don’t like the reminder of what could have been.”
The assistant principal, a former department member of mine, remarked that it was “better” that I remembered the date and what could have been than if someone else had to be reminded of a tragedy.

That was incredible advice.

I mean it made a huge difference in my viewpoint, for which I thanked him. He’s right. I would rather be reminded or deal with my own fears than have Jen or my family spends the day remembering that I passed away.

His words lifted my spirit and we all know that our spirit carries us sometimes.

Since this is a Wednesday, and as any fan of Big Bang theory knows, Wednesday is the day new comic books come in, I went to pick up my books. I then reflected, knowing my uncle was across the street at Medici partaking in our once usual ritual of quaffing ale. I decided to stop in, thank him, remind him of the date, let him know I loved him, and was served a frothy root beer from my favorite bartender, who also worked the night of the stroke, Chuck.

Chuck had Angie hand it to me as to not jinx the moment.

Happy anniversary to all who helped me that day and supported me then and still continue to do so.