13th Anniversary

Okay, I missed it. It was yesterday. And actually, missing it was a good thing.

Thirteen years ago yesterday I was in a horrible car accident. I used to celebrate the anniversary of that day religiously, like it was an alternate birthday. (I used to live with a guy who thought the idea of celebrating that day was sick, or at best morose. So, I stopped telling him I was celebrating it.) No matter how horrible the day was, it was a rebirth of sorts. Basically thirteen years ago, I stopped being the girl I grew up with, and I was reborn into the woman I am now. Like the phoenix rising from its own ashes. (Or at least, that's what I used to tell myself. Being a writer is nothing if not dramatic. LOL)

The good thing about forgetting to celebrate yesterday is I finally stopped living my life as if that event were worthy of remembrance. Hurray for me. Some things should be remembered, and some things should be celebrated, but spending precious time dwelling on that was a waste. I was smushed, I got better, get over it. Not that it wasn't an accomplishment, surviving all that and coming out the other side better, stronger, faster... Okay, not faster. Would you believe smarter? So, from now on, I will give it only the attention it deserves--a slight nod and a small wry smile--no more.

Onward into the future.

Now, should I celebrate the 12th as the date I stopped worrying about remembering? ;o)