There is a picture from October 29, 1993, that makes me smile whenever I see it (or even think of it). It might be because the smiles in the photo are so genuine; smiles that didn’t have too many opportunities to shine over the previous 20 months. Or perhaps it’s because the photo includes one of my favorite people: my coach, Tim, on his 49th birthday…a fact I didn’t realize until many years later. But that was Tim: it was never about him.

I am writing this post on October 29, 2023; what would have been Tim’s 79th birthday. Unfortunately, he is no longer with us, but I know he is smiling today, remembering this day 30 years ago.

I recently closed out my own 49th year, having turned 50 in August, and my goal was to begin blogging again as I entered this new decade. Life got in the way however - in good ways (vacation with my family, dropping off my kids at college) and hard (the death of a friend’s child, the loss of a family member). So here I am on this 30th anniversary, and Tim’s birthday, to celebrate an event worthy of starting my blog again.

During the 12 years between my book’s publication in 2008, and the world shutdown in 2020, I was busy raising my children, going to graduate school, traveling, speaking, serving on the ND Monogram Club board, and embracing a life I enjoyed hiding for many years. In 2008, I hadn’t much shared my story. I wanted to put it behind me; I didn’t want to talk about it; I tried to ignore the nerve damage and chronic complications that come with a spinal injury. Sharing my story allowed me to embrace the reality in which I lived; not only embrace it, but learn to use it to empower me. Sharing my story allowed me to control - and eventually celebrate - life’s tragic beauty.

I spent this weekend in South Bend, with friends who celebrated with me 30 years ago, and who made an astute observation: Your four years of college really weren’t that great. Ha. No, they weren’t. As much as I love Notre Dame, my time here as a student was brutal, hard, painful, and unhappy. Yes, there were happy moments; but overall, it was an unhappy time in my life.

Except for October 29, 1993.

30 years ago today, I competed for the first time since the bus accident. 30 years ago today, I thought the story was “over,” that I was healed and the accident would “go away.” 30 years ago today, I had no idea my real journey was just beginning. Sure, I was walking and swimming again, but I was about to embark on a journey down a path where I would grow into the person the accident tragically and beautifully created.