The “Awe”

I spent my weekend with my brother and his family, two nephews, one five and the other seven, in an early hang out sesh in my bed, Samuel, the five-year-old was intrigued with my burns and scars in general. I believe the way he phrased the question was, “Why does your skin look so wrinkly?”.  Logan chimed in saying it looks like that long piece of bread. He was referring to a baguette, which if I’m going to be referred to as bread, might as well be that delicious one. I told the boys the story. Samuel sitting on my left, was fully into the story with that look on his face that had so many questions forming. Logan was on my right playing on his tablet but somewhat paying attention to the story and chiming in here and there. Samuel had questions like, “Did lots of people die,” “what’s a Cessna plane?” and “Can I see the fire?” After answering the questions and him comparing the size of a Cessna plane to a 747 picture on the wall, I thought it time to whip out google and show him. After that he really wanted to see the fire.  The excitement on a five-year-old’s  face to see the fire was something. He sees fire as a bright orange color, I see pain and trauma. After that, we really went into a black hole of looking at pictures of me in the hospital and explaining every little thing. Why my legs were wrapped up, why my arm was, why my spine has screws in it,  and why I was asleep in most of the photos. Thinking Logan was checked out and into his game, he chimes in saying,  “It’s amazing you’re still alive, people don’t survive plane crashes”.  Samuel saying, “yea, I’m glad you survived cause then we wouldn’t be able to see each other.”

            They had no clue that June 1^st, was right around the corner BTW. A few things stood out, the amazement and point of view of a five- and seven-year-old. The amazement and point of view from them are similar. They’re in awe that someone survived a plane crash, something that we’re told rarely happens — more often than not doesn’t happen. The eyes filled with amazement. If you have kids, you’ve seen it and know exactly what I’m talking about. If not, find a kid and watch them…jk don’t be creepy. The brain just ticking on how it can be survived. It’s the mind blown emoji in real time. Often times we get caught up in the emotion of it, and honestly anything else to prevent us from thinking about it. It’s not that I don’t like talking about it, it just doesn’t feel real even if I have the body that proves it was. You get caught up in the wonder of what life would be like if I hadn’t gotten in the plane, a normal curiosity but one none the less. The pain of doing something as simple as walking or wearing a shoe creep in, and the fact you can walk is no longer something that’s amazing. The frustration with your body for not running as quickly as before is more prominent than the fact that it’s badass you can even run. Waking up and already having legs that hurt and then realizing you still have to go through the entire day.  The “awe” of surviving a plane crash you quickly lose site of till you see it from the perspective of a five- and seven-year-old. A reminder to sit back and look at everything you’ve accomplished that you may not have wanted to at the time, but life gives you no choice but to push through. And trust me there were times and still are times, I don’t want to push through but that’s for another time. Till then, be in the “awe” with me.