I was awakened by the sound of my family members speaking downstairs about what our day was going to consist of. I flew down the stairs to get in on the excitement. It was Sunday, April 25, 2010. We had plans to head out to Lake Conroe for a family lunch overlooking the water. At the time, my dad was a man who loved motor vehicles. He owned two very fast cars and a motorcycle that he would ride every so often. He planned to ride his bike with a friend and meet us at the lake. He spent all morning tuning up the bike and washing it to make sure it was all ready to go since he hadn't ridden in a while. I remember seeing my dad all dressed in his gear walking into the kitchen as I sat on the couch awaiting impatiently to leave the house. He had his helmet in his hand and he said goodbye to us all and headed outside to start his bike. My mother followed for a goodbye kiss that her intuition sent her after him for. She waved from afar after he drove away into the distance, silently hoping to herself he would make it there to meet us for lunch.

We pulled into the parking lot of the place we had specified to meet for lunch and my sister and I quickly ran towards the door to get a table. The wife of the man my father was out riding with was on her way to meet us, so we sat down and ordered some drinks as we waited. Time ticked on and we ordered some appetizers to enjoy for the time being. Then my mother's phone rang. I remember seeing her lift the phone to her ear and her facial expression changed to one I have never seen before. Her skin faded from a sun-kissed tan to a piercing pale white, I listened as she spoke and her voice trembled with fear. I saw in the distance the woman who was coming to meet us frantically walking to our table, cellphone to her ear. I then knew exactly what had happened. My dad had been in an accident. Life Flight had found his location and was flying him out to the nearest hospital in Bryan, TX. They were rushing him to the emergency room as quickly as they could, but I was worried beyond belief. Without hesitation we jumped in our car and headed straight there, calling family members and friends to meet us there.
I remember walking through the doors of the hospital into the emergency room and seeing my father helplessly lying on the stretcher. I fought to hold back the tears. The man who I believed was my Superman, the man whose strength was everlasting and the man who has a mind brighter than anyone I knew was lying there, broken and weak. I walked up to the stretcher and reached for his hand, I held it tightly and leaned down to tell him that I loved him. It probably took all of his strength to say it back, but he did. "Love you, too," he whispered. I felt like this was a bad dream I was about to wake up from, but before I could awaken the doctor walked into the room to tell my mother and I the news. He explained to us calmly that my father had broken his back, collarbone, neck and a few ribs which had punctured his right lung. The break in his spine had been so severe that it severed his spinal cord completely and no feeling shall be regained from the chest down. My father was never going to be able to walk again. The shock of this news brought me to hysterical tears. My mother forced me to leave the ER and go out with the rest of my family.

I knew these next few months, maybe even years were going to be extremely difficult, not only for my father, but for my family as well to adjust to this new lifestyle.
I had no idea what was in store for us.