Thursday, June 28, 2012


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.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Mattress Nostalgia

This post is probably inappropiate and unnecessary.

It's about my mattress. Well, Jimmy's old mattress. Well, our old mattress.

I forgot, we're married. Mi casa, su casa... yada yada.

This is the last night I'll be sleeping on it.

And it's bumming me the heck out.

First of all, getting rid of anything from our "past life" is always difficult. But, I'm a sentimental freak anyways.

Jimmy's mattress was around before I was. Which, if I think about too long, could be really gross.

But, it was there from our beginning.

And without getting too punny, has gone the distance.

It's been with us through four different addresses together.

Myrtle Beach, SC. Our first apartment together.

Piedmont, SC. We lived here the longest together.

Greer, SC. The apartment we had right after we got married, right before the accident.

And Atlanta, GA. Where we live now.

When I had to start sleeping in our bed alone, it was depressing and heartbreaking.

It was no way to be.

Alone. In my own room. On OUR bed.

Left to find a new way to sleep.

Squeezing pillows and sobbing.

Oof. Tough stuff.

Lots of loving, laughing, fighting, crying, talking, giggling, thinking, writing, and TV-watching in this ole thing.

It's got this really annoying squeak that I've gotten used to over the years.

Tomorrow, I'll get into a new bed that doesn't squeak, won't hurt my back, will finally allow some decent rest... and I'll miss the stupid old one.

But, I intend to get a nurse to help me transfer Jimmy into the new bed so he can help me make some new stories in it.

In another 8-10 years, hopefully I'll miss my new mattress as much.

Sobs, sobs, sobster.

Thursday, June 14, 2012


On July 4th, I'll be racing in AJC's Peachtree Road Race 10K. They shut down one of the city's busiest roads while thousands of runners pound the pavement.

This will be my first 10K, ever.

While I was registering, they asked for the reason why I'm doing the race.

Of course my inspiration is Jimmy.

I explained everything that happened recently with us and how I hope my husband will be waiting for me at the finish line, just as he was for my first 5K.

Shortly after I submitted my registration to the Road Race, a reporter from WSB-TV here in Atlanta contacted me and said the organization passed on our story to him.

Don McClellan, who was been at WSB for a half a century, came out to interview Jimmy and me this week.

He says it will be one of a six part series that will air leading up to race day.

Pretty cool stuff.

**Attached is an image from Don's blog, where he writes little tidbits about his stories, etc.  He included us the day before and the day of our interview.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

8,772 Hours Later...

Jimmy and I decided on a night wedding. A warm South Carolina evening ceremony.

There would be dinner and dancing when the sun went down.

We got married 365 days ago.

That's a whole damn year. Where does the time go?

Well, for once, I know the answer to that.

I know we've experienced a lot in our marriage.

Things others, hopefully, will never have to experience.

So what have I learned in our first year?

First and foremost: The vows. You have to mean that stuff. I wish I could go back and listen to what our minister said that day.

I'm sure I would hear it differently now.

I do remebering him being great.

I remember such perfect weather.

I remember the music at our reception being weird.

I remember people talking, drinking and... getting louder and happier as the night progressed.

All we wanted was for friends and family to have a good time... and rememeber they had it at our wedding.

I didn't drink as much as everyone apparently thought I would.

A lot of people gave me the "you want to remember your wedding" speech.

Oh, I remembered nearly everything.

I remember not seeing people dancing thinking... "Why aren't people dancing?"

Wondering if people were bored.

I worried if people liked the food.

I worried about if I made the right decisions with the seating arrangements.


These are the things I used to worry about.

So, over 8,000 hours later... I worry about different things.

Medical-like things.

Oxygen saturation.
Heart rate.
Pressure sore prevention.
Chair posture.
Chair maintenance.
Blood pressure.
Glucose levels.
Lack of feeling, movement.
The future, and how far into it all of this will be a factor. Will it be forever?


On August the 8th -- nearly two months into our marriage, I'm glad I didn't have to worry about things like:

A wake.
A funeral service.
A burial.
A headstone, and what to put on it.

I know it's morbid, but it puts things in perspective for me.

Death was knocking on our door that day.

We said, "Nah, we're good."

I'm grateful I still have my husband, even if he requires more work. More help. More attention.

My husband has such wonderful qualities.

Those are the reasons I married him.

None of that has changed.

He's the most drama-free person I've ever meant. I so needed that in a husband.

He takes things with a grain of salt, brushes stuff off. I read into every damn thing.

I am math stupid. I suck at math. I'll ask him a simple math question, and instead of calling attention to the fact that I should know that, or making fun, he just answers the question. God bless his smart college-educated self.

I can tell him gross personal stuff or I'll act like a 10-year old. I'll dance dorky like my parents, or I'll rewind a funny TV scene 18 times.

He'll listen to me vent about BS.

He just gets it.

The ying to my screwed-up yang.

He loves his sports.

He loves his action-packed-blow-things-up-Die-Hardish movies but will suck it up and watch a chick-flick with me when needed.

He likes dogs, but understands my allergies won't allow.

He knows important figures and events from the past that I don't know. I love that he knows the stuff that he does. Even if it does mean he's an oldie moldie.

He loves his friends. You should see his face light up when he's got a good buddy on the other line. He loves you all so much, you just don't know. Well, I get the feeling you do.

He loves his family. He would do anything for them. He loves checking in on the little ones. He loves letting them know he's looking out for them, in his own tough-guy way.

He loves his Mamma.

He loves surprises. Very unlike me.

He loves chocolate. Very like me.

He is phenomenal with children. When we cross that bridge one day, he'll kill at it.

He's got a great smile. It melts hearts around the globe. It's legend (wait for it) dary.

He's got the best attitude you can ask for. Not sure I could do this with anyone else.

For such a crummy situation, he makes this thing bearable. He fuels my ability.

We're here to say: you don't have to be miserable. Life can go on. We had to dig deep, and look for the foundation of what made our relationship strong to begin with.

Thank God we're both strong people.

6-10 years in the news business will do that to a person. Seriously.

Our first year of marriage: some could say it was hard. Some could say it was traumatic.

We've got many more.

And we're not done living.

I love you, James Walter Moore, Jr.

We're gonna continue doing this thing together.