A red light flashed, a crackling voice spoke and words kept resounding in my head. I could unscramble the jumbled words of an ambulance attendant who attentively tried to get me to respond. "Darrin" she echoed, "do you hear me?" But I was too weak to reply.

The ambulance sped off to the "Health Science Emergency Unit" in St. Johns. I was immediately rushed into surgery for internal injuries. After surgery, I was placed in the intensive care unit. After many peaceful hours of rest, I opened my eyes to a dull and lonely hospital room. I could hear the rain against my window pane. Each drop reminded me of the pain which I felt in my head.

After a few minutes a male doctor appeared in my vision. He gently did a quick examination and questioned my ability to remember. He explained to me that I wave spent the last four days in an unconscious state and had suffered extreme damage to my spine. Before I could mutter my thoughts, he exited the room and I was left alone. I started to fill up with emotion, but all I could think about was Leanne.

An hour drifted by and, with each stroke of the clock, I felt more alone. Suddenly a man dressed in black entered my room and approached my bed. He introduces himself as "Rev. John Lake." He questioned my ability to understand and my physical state. He then told me that he had some sorrow-filled news for me. I started to remember and thoughts of "Roxy" filled my mind. In a distasteful way, I cried out, "what happened to Roxy?" He took my hand and replied "God needed a jewel, so he gathered one." After an emotional prayer and a few words of sympathy, he exited.

I felt so alone and empty. The morning I had planned to be such a day of joy and excitement, had become a bundle of sorrow and hate. But the worst was yet to come.

Later that night, I requested the presence of my girlfriend Amanda, and my daughter. Amanda, did show up but she was alone. She held my hand and cried. As tears dripped on my cheek from hers, she asked me "why?" That night was very difficult but I survived it.

The next day the sun shined again. I was awakened to my daughters beautiful voice and fresh spring flowers on my table.

One thing that did come together was "Amanda's understanding and forgiveness."

I had months of therapy to face and a lot of guilt to bury, but I still had a family. That gave me the will and potential to struggle. "Roxy's death" was more than a memory. It was a lesson to me of the value of life.

Written by: D. R.