What I Now Know: Alivia Holmes

Posted by Reeve Staff in Daily Dose on September 26, 2019 # What I Now Know, SCI Awareness

Dear Alivia,

I don’t want to scare you. I don’t want to slow you down. I don’t want to force you to brace yourself when you’re running at full speed. I want you to continue living every second of your life with as much enthusiasm and heart as you are right now. I don’t ever want you to stop dancing. I don’t ever want you to stop dreaming, planning and growing.

What you don’t know is that your world is going to flip upside-down not too long from now. You’re going to see what’s coming within a few seconds of it happening and brace yourself without me warning you. You’re going to wake up staring at a shattered windshield and be unable to move. You’re not going to fully comprehend what happened yet, but you’ll know you’re alive and that you’ll be OK.

It will feel as if the next three weeks of your life are one long dream. You’ll remember a lot of machines, a lot of noise, a lot of wires, a lot of tubes, a lot of chaos and a lot of pain. You won’t remember flatlining before surgery. You won’t remember the many faces that were around. You won’t remember any of the stories during this time that your friends will inevitably tell you later. You still won’t understand the severity of your injury but that’s probably a good thing.

You’ll spend the next three months in rehabilitation and all you’re going to want to do is go home. You’ll watch endless hours of MTV music videos on a loop and lose track of what day and time it is. You’ll learn what true frustration feels like and start to lose yourself. For years you won’t realize that your magic is fading. You won’t necessarily be sad but you’re going to be lost for a little bit and do more existing than living. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here to help find you.

Your perspective shifts somewhere along the way. You start to remember how to feel alive. This is the beginning of loving yourself. Isn’t it lovely? Welcome home.

We are still dreaming, planning and growing. We’ve still got magic in our bones. We are still in pursuit of what sets our soul on fire. Between the six countries, 19 states (and counting), consistently getting stronger physically, and especially mentally, and the genuine love we have for life, I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job at refueling.

We will always be a work in progress but anything worthwhile requires work. Remember that we owe it to ourselves to become everything we’ve dreamed of becoming. It’s all empty pages ahead. Let’s fill them wisely.

Love always,

Liv xo