So, I have a love story that starts out very
stereotypical of “boy meets girl and falls in love and then they decide to get
married.” End of the stereotypical part!
My (then fiancé) and I decided that we
were going to get married on the beach (ok, slightly still stereotypical of
some) and had gone about the process of selecting the perfect spot with the
perfect sunset, finding decorations, and picking out food options. Then, like a big black cloud, comes
the BP oil spill! Well, we all know what
kind of damper that put on a lot of parades (and should have been a red
flag). But, we decided to press on anyway! The owner of the private house where
we were supposed to get married ensured us that there was no hide or hair of
oil reminisce anywhere around them (they were located in a bay, so I took her
word for it).
It was wedding day eve and both I and my fiancé
started the drive from Nashville down to Gulf Shores, Alabama, and I was sitting
in the passenger seat laughing while texting to my mom who was 10 miles behind us
with my dad.
It was 12:01 PM on August 5,, 2010 at mile
marker 192 when it happened; We were getting back on the interstate in
Montgomery from a bathroom break when everything changed for the rest of our
lives.
Vickie was a 52 year old woman driving on Interstate 65 North when she
decidedly needs to reach for a water bottle in her passenger floor board
causing a chain reaction of events. First, she hit the guard rail on her
passenger side, then over corrected and hit the gas instead of break. Vickie came
across the median and hit us head on. Our impact speed was 150 mph. In fact, we
were hit so hard, the speedometer was stopped and stuck at 75 mph.
All the
table decorations were shattered, my dress laid crumpled in a pile of metal.
My fiancé’s foot went through his right heel; a
piece of the engine had taken a chunk of meat from his left leg, making him unable to walk. He pulled himself up, out, and on the roof of the car. He called
my name and there was no answer. He screamed my name and still no answer. I had
suffered a brain bleed, abdomen bleed, broken ribs, and a broken wrist. We were
even wearing seat belts. Vickie opened her door, said nothing, and waited for
the paramedics up against the guard rail.
Traffic immediately came to a standstill. My
mom was still texting, but quickly noticed her texts were going unanswered. My
dad tried calling once, then a second time, and on the third ring, my phone
picked up due to the vibrations from the Jaws of Life. He hears my screams and
calls my name, the call drops.
My fiancé had to have emergency surgery to
stabilize him until we could get back to Nashville where surgeons would end up
putting an entire metal “heel” back in the bottom of his foot. I suffered
temporary short term memory loss in addition to all of my other injuries. To
this day, I still have no memory of our stay at the trauma center.
On Saturday, August 7, 2010, someone had
reminded me that it was my wedding day. Despite the pain and lack of memory, I
wanted to get married and would not take “No” for an answer. Through our mother’s tears and “are you
sure’s,” my wedding dress was picked up, a cake from the nearest grocery store
found, and even a bunch of silk flowers for a bouquet were rummaged up. Luckily
for us, the hospital even had a decent sized little chapel.
My fiancé was wheeled in the chapel, and my dad
walked me down the corridor from my hospital room to the chapel and gave me
away. I only have pictures of this day
to look back at, not one memory.
Most
people would think that we were robbed, but I like to think about it like this:
We are all given a test at some point in our
lives of our character and love for each other. It is how we handle ourselves
during those times of diversity that defines who we are and the relationships
that we are in.
Not many people start their married lives with
such stress, sadness, frustration, and challenge. My husband ended up being
wheelchair bound for four months and I, well, I was 8 weeks pregnant with our
daughter throughout it all. This isn’t a story of pity, but rather a story of
how through the most difficult of times, love will still and always win. The
accident took my memory of every girl’s most important day, but it gave me a
love for my husband and now beautiful daughter that nothing will ever take
away.
P.S. On August 7, 2016, we will be renewing our
vows with our daughter. I like to think that God just wanted us to have a
flower girl but I am sure it will be a
day that the three of us will never forget.
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