And, in some ways it doesn’t.

In some ways, our lives are better because of it.

Of course, in some ways our lives are much more difficult, too.

But, anymore, it seems like its just any other day.

Just like in all the storybooks, the day started out just like any other. We had been entertaining company that afternoon. I had started a new job not too long ago, and had invited some co-workers over to hang out. My previous job had long and awkward hours, so Tom and I were both enjoying being able to spend our evenings together. Heck, I even had weekends off, now.

After my new friends left, I decided to sneak in a catnap on our couch to refresh myself for the evening. I was certain that we would probably be going to some other friends house. We enjoyed stopping by our friends and socializing all evening long.

Tom, my boyfriend, had decided to enjoy the rest of the fall day by getting ready for bow hunting season at the back of the property where we live. He really enjoyed hunting. I’m not exactly sure what he enjoyed the most. Although, anything to do with the outdoors made Tom happy. Whether it be tooling around in one of his gardens, or walking through the woods, Tom lived and breathed the outdoors.

I had quickly fallen asleep around 4 p.m. and had not even realized what his intentions were. He had decided to take his garage sale deer tree stand out to try it before the bow hunting season got underway. He had mentioned something about a wonderful spot at the back of the yard earlier. There had been a colony of butterflies that had flown through there just the other day, and he was hoping to get to see them again. He also wanted to set up his stand to see if he needed to clear any tree limbs out of his line of sight.

When I woke up three hours later, I thought it was a little strange that Tom had not already woken me up like normal, giving me a hard time for sleeping the gorgeous day away.

Typically he would of nicely suggested to me that I wake up and enjoy the outdoors with him. I would grouchily, while half asleep, suggest that he let me sleep an hour longer. Knowing I would be awake all night if he let me sleep longer, he’d keep lovingly pestering me until I would finally decide to open my eyes.

I glanced up at the clock and instantaneously noticed the walkie-talkie on the coffee table that we often used to communicate while he was out running around outdoors and the sticky note attached saying to call if I needed anything.

I picked up my walkie-talkie. “Hey baby,” I said in a sleepy tone into the speaker.

There was no answer. I didn’t think much of it. Perhaps he had turned down the volume to not disturb any wildlife, or so as not to shock his eardrums.

I called again. “Baby?”

Still nothing.

Maybe the battery went dead, I remember thinking and, without delay, thought to call the cell phone.

Our voicemail picked up. I briefly listened to the song that I had made Tom record on the voicemail of him playing guitar and singing. Blackbird, by the Beatles. He did the song justice, ask anyone.

I hung up and dialed again.

Voicemail.

What the hell is going on? Maybe he fell asleep?

I decided to venture to the back of the property, after finding a flashlight since the sun had almost set, to give him trouble for falling asleep while setting up his hunting supplies.

He had driven the car full of supplies the quarter mile back to the tree line. My flashlight found the taillight reflectors and I made the journey on foot.

Making it to the car, I looked inside, half expecting to see him asleep in there. Or, at least, finding the unmanned walkie-talkie, which would explain half the reason he did not answer when I called.

(to be continued)

The car was empty.

Instantly, I called Tom’s name.

I had never been back to see where Tom was planning to set up his deer stand. It was one of those things that you always think you’ll get around to. I stood in the dusk and waited for a reply, my eyes searching the tree line.

In that split second, I have never felt so alone in my entire life.

What seemed like a lifetime passed before Tom answered.

“Sheila,” It was strained, and at once I was terrified. “Sheila, over here.”

“Where? Where are you?”

“Over here, over here.”

I found Tom barely inside the woods, lying face down on the ground with his deer stand wrapped around him. Head to toe in camouflage, he looked as if he’d decided to lie down and take a nap, besides being surrounded by the metal frame of the stand. His backpack of supplies laid at the base of the tree.

Tom’s hat was a decent three feet away from his grasp. Anyone that knows Tom also knows that he always wears a hat. Seeing his hat close enough for him to grab it, yet he hadn’t, made me realize there was a serious problem here.

“Oh God, oh God.” Panic set in. I knew this wasn’t good.

“I can’t move, Sheila. I broke my neck. I couldn’t answer when you called,” he said almost too calmly.

“Oh God, Tom. How long have you been laying here?”

“About three hours,” he said matter-of-factly. “Sheila you have to call 911.”

I nodded, trying to think clearly. He had been lying here… waiting for me to wake up from my nap… for three hours…? I started towards him to get the cell phone. “Where’s the phone?” I asked while starting to bend down towards him to rummage through his pockets.

“Don’t move me, Sheila!” he stated firmly. “The phone is in the front bib of my overalls. I couldn’t get to it when it rang. Go back up to the house and call 911.”

I could feel the tears coming already. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Sheila, you have to go call 911.”

Tom continued to work on convincing me to leave him to go back to our house to call 911. He was, somehow, the rational one in this situation. I couldn’t figure out why he, the one who had been lying for three hours waiting for someone to find him, could be so calm. All I could guess is he already had time to assess the situation, and had gone through his stage of panic and was past that.

I, on the other hand, was freaking out.

After a brief moment of listening to Tom’s directions, I quickly walked back to the car and drove back up towards our apartment. Instead of driving that far, though, I stopped at the neighbors and jumped out of the car.

I pounded on the neighbor’s front door, constantly looking over my shoulder to the back of the property. The couple worked nights, I thought, and wasn’t even sure if they were home. I wondered if I was wasting precious time by waiting to see if they were there.

This only happens in the movies, I remember thinking. This can’t be real.

The neighbors, John and Mary, opened up the door, and I began spatting off instructions to call 911 because Tom had fallen from a tree. It took a couple times of saying it before I could see the recognition sink into their faces. Their eyes opened widely, and Mary started to grab for the phone.

“John, go with Sheila back down to Tom. I’ll wait here to show the ambulance where to go,” Mary said as she scooted us out the door.

I quickly jumped into the passenger’s seat of my car, knowing that I was in no condition to drive, and then asked John if he knew how to drive a manual transmission. By the look on his face, I think it had probably been some time since he’d driven one, but he sat in the driver’s seat and started the car.

It was only a two minute drive, tops. Again, it seemed like forever. I had no idea of his condition, really. I didn’t know if he was bleeding, internally or externally. I didn’t know if shock would set in and he would be passed out by the time we got back. Or, worse, if he would be able to continue to breathe on his own or if he would be able to hold on to life until an ambulance would be able to get there.

I pointed John to the spot where Tom was laying. We both darted from the car to Tom’s side.

“Tom, baby, Mary is calling 911. John is here. Are you okay?”

“I messed up bad, Sheila. I messed up bad,” he said sadly.

John peered at Tom from the field, and said, “I’m going to stay by the car to show the paramedics where to go.”

I nodded back to him and crouched down beside Tom, afraid to touch him at all.

“I thought I was going to die, Sheila,” Tom said. “I thought for sure I was going to heaven. I was wondering who I was going to see first.”

I started to cry again. “Well, you’re stuck here with me now.”

“How do I look? Am I all twisted up?”

“No, baby. You look fine, you look fine. You look like you laid down.”

“I fell on my head. I broke my neck, Sheila. I can’t move anything past my shoulders. I tried to rock back and forth on the cell phone hoping to answer it when you called. I couldn’t.”

“Its okay, I’m here now.”

“Is the ambulance on its way?” His voice was getting quieter, like he was getting tired.

“Yes, it’s on its way.”

“Sheila?”

“Yes, Tom?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

(to be continued)

I could hear the ambulance getting closer. John let us know he could see the lights up by the house. Suddenly there were paramedics surrounding us. They bombarded us both with questions about what had happened and how long he had been there. I answered what I could, but Tom seemed to become a little more coherent and answered most of the questions himself.

I stepped back out of the woods and let the paramedics assess the situation, but stayed close enough to watch and listen.

I remember hearing them ask Tom who he was, where he was, and if he knew what the days date was.

Tom replied, “Its September twentieth, 2003. It’s probably around 7 p.m.”

One of the paramedics seemed slightly amused while looking at his watch. “Pretty good.”

“Do you know who the president is?” One asked.

Again, Tom responded, “George Bush.”

The paramedic added, “Junior or Senior?”

Tom showed off, “‘W.’.”

I swear one of the paramedics chuckled.

Mary materialized beside me.

“I need to call Tom’s mom,” I said, still panic-stricken. I wished badly I had remembered to grab my cigarettes for the maiden trip down to the woods. I was starting to shake badly.

“Here,” Mary said, showed me her cell phone. “What’s the number?”

“Four,” I started and stopped. “No. No that’s not it.”

She erased the number and waited again.

“Three. No, that’s not it either. Sheila,” I told myself, “pull it together.” I took a deep breath and concentrated hard, then slowly spit out the number.

Mary handed me the phone as it began to ring.

What am I supposed to say? I thought. What if she’s not home? What do I do then?

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

The answering machine picked up.

“Dona,” I said quickly and urgently, “Dona, its Sheila, pick up. Are you there? Dona? It’s an emergency.”

“Hello?” Dona’s voice said, interrupting my conversation with her answering machine.

“Dona, its Sheila. Tom’s been in an accident.”

“What? Where?”

“We’re at the house. The paramedics are already here.”

“I’m on my way.”

I had already retreated further away from the accident scene due to the fact that the reality was setting in. I was starting to feel faint, and like I was going to vomit.

Concentrating on keeping my head, and my consciousness, I crouched beside my car, leaning on the driver’s side door for support.

Deep slow breaths, deep slow breaths, I kept telling myself in my head.

The paramedics had successfully figured out how to get Tom strapped to a backboard through the deer stand he was laying in, and they were in the process of carrying him to the ambulance.

I made my way over to Tom, as he reminded me, “The cell phone is in my front bib pocket. Go ahead and get it.”

Looking at the face of the cell phone, I noticed my missed calls from the house, and my heart sank further. I couldn’t imagine the frustration he must have been in to be so close to being able to call for help, yet not being able to.

Instantly, I called one of Tom’s close friends, Jeff, and spouted off that Tom had been in an accident and we were in the process of getting him to the ambulance. “I don’t know why I called,” I remember saying, “But I had to let someone know.” That seemed like a stupid thing to say. Obviously, anyone of Tom’s friends would want to know about this, and by calling Jeff I had relieved myself of my duties to call everyone.

Tom’s mother arrived quickly, the luxury of living only 5minutes apart by highway.

Dona let Tom know that she had made it, and let the paramedics load him into the ambulance.

“We’ll be going to Research,” one paramedic said as he closed the back doors and headed towards the drivers side of the ambulance.

As the ambulance took off, Dona and I made our way back to the apartment so I could gather the necessities for the trip to the hospital. Dona suggested that we call Tom’s dad, and I felt bad for not thinking about that sooner.

(to be continued)

“I don’t have the number,” I stated, frustrated with the fact that I hadn’t been more organized with such important information. “Tom has it programmed into his watch…”

Tom had purchased a cool watch early that year that stored phone numbers in it. Even if I had thought about grabbing Tom’s watch, I wouldn’t have known how to work it.

Dona stood quiet for a minute, recalling J.W.’s number. Now, how she did that, I don’t know, due to the fact that I could hardly remember her number, and I used to use it frequently. Dona and J.W. had been divorced for some time, and hadn’t exactly remained in the closest contact.

We dialed his home number on my cell phone, and let it ring.

“Answering machine,” she said and listened to the message. “It gives his cell phone number, but I didn’t catch it.”

She hung up and dialed again. Listening intently, she recited the number to me as the answering machine spoke in her ear. We quickly dialed the new number, and got his voice mail.

He and his wife, Debbie, had gone out to a casino for the evening, and most cell phones don’t have good reception there, hence the reason he had not been able to answer immediately. Finally, Dona got a hold of J.W. and gave him the brief overview of the events. He agreed to meet us at the hospital.

Dona suggested she drive, which in my state of being, was the safest idea. We got into Dona’s Jeep and started the first of many trips to the hospital.

I had been to Research before, but with Tom sitting beside me giving me directions.

Ironically, the last time we had been to Research, Tom and I were going to visit one of Tom’s best friends, Sean, who had broken his back a year or so before. I had thought to call Sean earlier, but knowing he lived an hour away, decided to wait to deliver the news the next morning.

(To Be Continued At A Later Time)