Well, I went back to "the scene of the crime" this week.
At my request, my father, my wife and I went out into the woods to where I had turned a deer stand into an express elevator.
I have to say, it is a very moving experience to stand there and look at the place where you almost died.
The ladder is still in place against the tree trunk, and the stand was laying on its side (even mostly still intact) several feet away.
My plan had been to go up into that specific stand, to "get back on the horse," as it were. That specific "horse" obviously wasn't an option, but I did go up into one of our other stands that afternoon.
I'll be honest, it took me a while to get to sleep the night before, but I'm glad I did it.
I'm somewhat puzzled by reactions from people I've talked to about it. Yes, I pulled myself up off the ground after the fall, got back on the 4-wheeler, and drove myself back to the house. To me, it's simply what I *had* to do, so I did it.
I was talking with someone about "getting back on the horse," and they commented, "Wow, you REALLY don't do 'avoidance,' do you?"
If something unpleasant can be avoided as a long-term strategy, then sure, I'll go for that. This wasn't one of those things and I knew it, so I didn't try. Facing it, conquering it, was the only workable option... so that's what I did.
In both cases, there was something I *needed,* and no one else could do it for me. I won't claim they were pleasant or that I want to do either of them again, but the alternatives were clearly worse.
Thank you, to everyone who helped me get here -- my family, my friends, my teachers, my students. You've helped me physically to be able to survive what has been almost universally considered as a "death drop" (18-20 feet), and helped me build the strength of character to make myself do what had to be done.
Thank you, very much.
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For those of you who don't know, "get back on the horse" was not a metaphor in my family when I was growing up - it was literal. We rode horses both for pleasure and to work with my grandparents' cattle, and we all took our fair share of tumbles, including a broken arm for me when I was 9. As you can imagine, getting told to "get back on the horse" happened quite a bit!
Thursday afternoon, I heard the echoes of several people telling me to get back on the horse, but for some reason one voice was louder than the others: my older sister, Melinda.
I don't know if historically she said that to me any more or less than anyone else, or if she just has a bigger mouth ;-)
Whatever the reason... thank you, to all of my family, and especially my big sis!
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Thanks, chica!
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+sympathizes+
I'm just so damned glad you're gonna be okay.
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Thank you -- needless to say, I'm damned glad, too!
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SO glad for your strength, your healing and your horse-getting-back-on skills. *g*
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Okay, now you've got me picturing a horse covered in gravy, and that's just WRONG! LOL
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I can never seem to face/conquer/sublimate my own demons/fears/bad experiences for my own self. I have only ever overcome things like that by it being needed by someone else.
I respect you, sir, and will continue to admire you for your fortitude. Among other reasons.
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I can't even think of what to say to that, except obviously "Thank you!"