I often look back on the last 3 years of my life and ask why I have given so much time, money and energy in fighting a battle to see my kids. It's overwhelming sometimes to think that I've exerted enough energy to supply Las Vegas with 24 hours of power. I'm left wondering if I am supposed to be a dad or just move on, give up, and fight a different battle. I never thought my first marathon would be an ongoing battle to love my kids, I thought maybe it would involve shoes and a road.
When I have these feelings of defeat, I am then reminded of a mere 5 seconds that changed my outlook on life. On June 4th 2011, my youngest was born. After working a twelve hour shift overnight at the hospital, I found myself driving behind a military convoy that were heading to a training session. The rumble strips woke me up, but before I could even move my foot to brake, I plowed into a Military truck at an estimated 50 MPH.
Dazed and confused, glasses broken, and my phone smashed, I looked over to the passenger door and saw a military man prying the door open to pull me out; their training session had become a real life rescue mission. He reached into my car and pulled me out, carrying me to the field nearby. I looked at him and said, "my daughter was just born." In an attempt to keep me conscious, he asked me to tell him about her and how beautiful she was. Within what seemed like a few moments, an ambulance arrived and brought me to the hospital. I walked away with a mere bruise from the seat belt and I was able to go home that same day.
If ever I feel defeated, I remember this day. A day that if I were not supposed to be in their lives, the big guy upstairs would have let me know and called me home. Not a single person, even their mother, can look me in the eye and say "sorry, you can't be in their life". Because this story is testimony to the fact that I am MEANT to be.
This post was first published on https://www.timetoputkidsfirst.org