Tag Archives: ramblings

Wednesday Morning Ramblings

March 7, 2012 D.A. Adams 8 Comments

A dull thud tapped me on the forehead, like someone had taken their palm and bumped me playfully. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the ground with two shotputs in my lap, which strange because I’d only been carrying one. I rolled them away and tried to get my bearings, but everything was a swirl of colors and sounds. Then, I felt a tickle on my eyebrow, like sweat was dripping, so I reached up to wipe it away and pulled back a hand coated in blood. That’s when I knew something bizarre had happened.

On this day in 1989 at roughly 3:30 in the afternoon, I nearly lost my life. An 8 lb. shotput had struck me on the right side of the head just above the hairline. I suffered a nasty laceration, exposing my skull, a severe brain contusion, and at the time, when they still graded concussions, the highest grade concussion on the chart. Fortunately, it had hit me on the hardest part of the skull and didn’t fracture or even crack the bone. Also, because of the angle, it mostly glanced off my head instead of impacting with full force. I spent three days in the hospital, lost 20 lbs. from the trauma, and literally nearly died. To this day, I live with some symptoms of post-concussion syndrome.

For many years, I wallowed in self-pity for everything the accident took from me: mostly the opportunities to play college football and join the marines on an ROTC scholarship. Then, one day I woke up and realized that I was fortunate simply to be alive. Today, as I mark the 23rd anniversary of the day that changed my life, I want to focus more on what the accident has given me, namely an appreciation for my life and my creativity. Without those, I wouldn’t be the man I am today, and I’m fairly happy with that man.

In terms of appreciation, I see each day as a blessing, as time I’ve been granted by grace. Even with all the turmoil and difficulties of the last five years, being alive and on this earth allows me the opportunity to learn and grow and laugh and love. I’ve gotten to experience fatherhood, and if it took enduring that accident a hundred times to have my sons, line me up. In terms of creativity, I’m convinced that at least in part, the injury awakened some part of my brain that had mostly been dormant. At the very least, it forced me to turn my attention away from athletics and towards writing, so I see now that the accident has given me far more than it took.

Not too long ago, I found Bobby, the boy who had mistakenly thrown it, and got to tell him, after years of needing to share this, that I had never harbored any ill-will for him, even during the worst of my headaches and the darkest of days. We were unsupervised kids, and even if he had had been trying to hit me, there was no way he could have done so on purpose. It was just a dumb, fluke accident. I hope he knows in his heart that he wasn’t to blame, and I hope he doesn’t carry around any misplaced feelings of guilt. Bobby, if you happen to read this, I love you, man.

So today, as I remember that day and the subsequent years of symptoms, I ask all of you to do one thing. Contact those you love most and tell them how you feel. Don’t wait. Do it now because you never know what split-second, dumb fluke could end their or your life. Embrace your darkest moments, for even those days are blessings. None of us are promised anything on the other side; everything beyond this world is pure speculation, so cherish each day on this earth. Any day above ground is a good day.

General Posts

Monday Night Ramblings

March 5, 2012 D.A. Adams 2 Comments

104_2043 — Part of the view in front of my place.

I’ve spent most of the today cleaning and organizing my place and sorting through and dealing with my emotions. Yeah, I know how to party like a rock star for Spring Break. In all seriousness, though, it’s been fairly therapeutic, and while some of the emotions haven’t been pleasant, I feel like it’s important for me to go through this process. From the bottom of my heart, I want to find a healthy place for me emotionally so that maybe one day I can have a positive, healthy, sustainable relationship, but before that can ever happen, I have to face some pain and let go of some anger.

In terms of my place, I made pretty good progress today. My clothes are organized, and much of the mess from repairing the roof is cleaned up. There’s still a lot to do to get it comfortable again, but any positive progress is good at this point. As soon as it warms up, I’m going to finish tarring the roof to make sure all the leaks are completely sealed, and then I’ll work on replacing the insulation that got damaged from the leaks. Once I’m finished, it’ll be a pretty cozy little writing haven. On the emotional side, that’s a different matter.

Let me say first and foremost, to all of the women from my past, please forgive me for my shortcomings as a human being. Any wrongs I may have committed — intentional or unintentional, real or imagined — were the product of my emotional immaturity. To those who knew me before my marriage, please forgive me for the worst of my immaturity. I was a dumb kid and pretty insecure and accept full responsibility for all of the flaws that were the folly of my youth. Please know that I’m a better man today than I was back then, and please know my apologies are sincere.

To my ex-wife, please forgive me for not being the man you needed. Forgive me for not finding financial success and for entering a profession that demanded so much of my time and attention. We weren’t meant to be as a couple, and I’m sorry it took us 12 years to figure that out. I wouldn’t change it because we created two beautiful sons, and they are the world to me, but you and I both know we never truly fit. I may never be able to forgive you fully for Christmas Morning, because that was cruel and malicious, but I’m trying to let go of the pain and anger to be a better man for my sons’ sakes.

To the women I’ve known after my marriage, please forgive me for being so scarred and damaged. I should’ve taken more time to heal. My one real regret in life is that I allowed the pain and loneliness of missing my children to rush me into searching for something to fill that void. It wasn’t fair to you or me, and I accept full responsibility for not being ready. Please know that I accept all the blame because I should have been alone, finding myself and repairing my emotional scars. I won’t repeat that mistake again and will remain alone for as long as is necessary.

To my friends, the ones who have been there through all of my turmoil these last five years, please know that I love you dearly. If I could ever find a relationship as strong and healthy as my friendships, I would be the most blessed man on this planet. You have picked me up from my lowest moments and stood by me through some pretty hard times, and I only hope I can repay you for all you have given me. Thank you for not giving up on me and for accepting me with all my flaws. Today was not easy, but I hope it was a step in the right direction for finding peace and stability in my life.

General Posts

Sunday Afternoon Ramblings

March 4, 2012 D.A. Adams 16 Comments

I’m no choir boy. I’ve kicked up my share of dust and had my share of fun, but I’m no derelict either. I’ve worked since I was about 10, starting out helping in my dad’s business. I’ve worked hard physical labor, delivered pizza, taught classes, written books, sold cars, and busted my ass to eke out a meager existence. None of it has been easy, and more times than I can count, I’ve thought about giving up and becoming a vagabond. But that’s not who I am. In my heart, I’m a warrior, and I’ll fight until my last breath to achieve my goals. There may be stronger, smarter, better-looking, more successful men than I am, but there aren’t many who are tougher. I’m not saying that to brag, just stating a fact about myself.

Last semester, I pushed myself through some of the hardest moments of my life and am proud that the only days I missed at work were those when I had doctors’ appointments. Once, I delivered pizza for a couple of weeks with a pulled calf muscle. Each step sent blinding pain up my leg, but my children needed a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, so I ignored the discomfort. I also took an 8 pound iron ball to the head and lived to tell about it. There are tougher men than I am, but it’s a small measure.

I’m no choir boy. I’ve done my share of living, but when I’ve given myself to a woman, I’ve not broken my word. There aren’t many men who can honestly say that. There aren’t many women either. If I commit to a relationship, I’m with that person and no one else. Again, I’m not bragging, just stating a simple truth of myself. When I’m single, I’ve broken a few hearts, but I don’t lie or lead anyone on, never offering more than I can live up to. I’m always honest about what I can and cannot give. At this point in my life, I don’t know if I’ll ever love again. Only time can answer that. Right now, I just want to heal and focus on my goals.

This place I live in is nothing to brag about. It’s old and dilapidated with few modern luxuries. The materialistic people in this world would turn their noses up at it and shun me as a bum, but it’s my little corner in this world and brings me peace. I can live without the comforts for that. I wrote most of Dorkhun in this broken-down motor home and will complete book four here, too. My life may not have the shiny facade most people try to build to show the world how great they are, but I’ve never really given a damn about the facade. I’m content with myself as a human being, and that’s enough for me. That’s not to say I don’t have lessons to learn and maturity to gain because I do, but at my core, I’m decent and can live with that.

I’ve learned to define success on my own terms. I’ll probably never be wealthy, the toast of the town, or a rock star, but those aren’t my goals. They may have been when I was young and immature, but now, I define my success by the quality of what I do. Every time a reader tells me they enjoyed one of my books, I’ve succeeded. Every time a student thanks me for giving them a solid foundation, I’ve succeeded. When I leave this earth, I’ll have left a mark, maybe not a huge mark, but a somewhat positive one. I may not be prince charming or a knight in shining armor or nice little choir boy, but I’m D.A. Adams, father, writer, educator, and friend. That’s enough for me.