Diagonally Parked in a Parallel Universe.

 Ring….. Ring…. Ring….. “Hello,” I say, picking up my work phone, with my usual optimistic tone. “Do you have a daughter?” a woman responds, ominously.             “Well yes, I have two,”  I reply.  My mind flies to my daughter, Annsley, in North Pole, Alaska and my nine-month-old granddaughter Isabelle.  Thinking of my youngest daughter, Kaitlyn, who moved to Colorado last year, I feel my heart beating faster.  It’s been a couple days since I’ve talked to either of them.  They live states away and are living their own lives.             “Is this Alison?  Do you have a daughter, Kaitlyn?”  Says the voice. “Yes!  What is this about?”  My nerves begin to flutter.  A tsunami of butterflies swirl in my belly. “When is your daughter’s birthday?”  The voice asks.     “July ...

I was in a coma six years ago today. It's hard for me to grasp how much life has happened since May of 2011; sometimes it really does feel like I am diagonally parked in a parallel universe.  From learning to talk, walk, and eat again, to years of therapies, to getting married and having children, I have come a long way.  Spending time mulling over tough past experiences can do a couple things to a person: leave them festering in unwanted memories like a deep wound that won’t heal, or allow the healing process to create extra scar tissue, and come out even stronger than before. My accident made me a survivor.  Becoming a mother made me a warrior.  I make a conscious effort to be grateful for my blessings every day.  Sometimes I forget, but I try to remember always.  From having hands to grasp and eyes to see to the freedom to express my experiences.  With all the atoms and energy floating around, existence and awareness alone are miracles.  I...