The Day I Killed Someone
Jamison Hill

Gratitude Scars

What’s left of my physical scars

Thank you for sharing your story. You took me back to a car incident that shaped my life. These moments reshape your whole world view. At 21, I ran into a tree after I lost control of the wheel on Easter Sunday in 1998. I was hurt bad, but not permanently. My infant son was in the back and was unharmed but understandably scared. I just happened to crash outside of the home of a registered nurse. My mama instincts were to reach back and grab my son as soon as I freed myself. She stopped me and told me to stay still and that he would be okay. I stopped long enough to look at myself in the mirror and, with blood and cuts all over my face and body, I thought I had died. The windshield had shattered all over me and my neck was cut pretty deep. Later I found out from the hospital staff that my neck was cut so deep from the seat belt jerking me back upon impact that I would probably have been paralyzed had I taken my 25-pound son out of his car seat or done all of the twisting necessary to grab him.

My life has never looked like that of others my age, but I matured about 20 years that day and, in hindsight, I am so grateful for that (and my life and limbs being spared). I still carry a faint scar on my neck that reminds me to live in gratitude.

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