The other day, I was cleaning out my voicemails.
I keep them for way too long. I started deleting until I got to some voicemails saved from Septemeber.
And then August.
August the 8th.
The day of Jimmy's crash.
I'm not sure if I saved all of them, or deleted some along the way.
But I still have a handful of messages from the day of the crash.
Some within the hour of Jimmy's crash.
One co-worker left a message -- you could hear the absolute fear and concern in her voice.
She said she was worried about me driving to the hospital by myself.
She was worried that she hadn't heard from me.
Others called just to see if they could do anything.
Jimmy's friends and my friends really having no idea what was going on... just calling to see if I had any information.
Jimmy's father called. He was scared for his boy. He wanted to know what was happening.
Then Jimmy's mother, who was in Massachusetts at the time. She called and said she would keep calling until she got me. Her voice trembling towards the end of her messages just before she hung up.
I played these messages for Jimmy.
He hadn't heard them. I had... but hadn't listened to them in a very long time.
I started to get emotional and even cried a little.
Jimmy just seemed curious and interested.
The thick, raw emotion associated with that day all comes flooding back when I listen to those messages. For Jimmy, it's just survival. He was busy surviving those days.
I can't even imagine the texts I got.
That day led us to where we are now in Atlanta, where we continue living our new life.