This, my dear friends, is life.

Before you read this, don’t read it lightly as if it’s some beautiful story of miracles. It is a story of miracles, but working towards those miracles was one of the most traumatic experiences I’ve ever endured. This post took me a total of four hours to type, because it was that difficult. Most of you know my brother was in a motorcycle accident. A few of you have assumed that since he is walking away with a few broken bones, that it wasn’t that terrible or serious of an accident. You assumed wrong. My brother was going somewhere between 60 and 70 MPH on a motorcycle when his highway peg clipped a four wheeler, sending my brother into a swivel, when he regained control, he was riding in a ditch. With a mailbox coming up, my brother decides to lay the bike on its side. After hitting the mailbox, he hits a culver and goes airborne with his bike. He lands. He does all this with no helmet on. Let me repeat, no helmet on. His friend runs over, my brother had swallowed his own tongue and