In “celebration” of the sixth month anniversary of my accident, I’ve compiled a short ode to our earth-moving friend, the dump truck.

I used to play with a dump truck toy as a kid.
Now, I get smacked with real ones upside the lid.
I reminisce on those days in the backyard sandbox,
When I loaded your plastic bed with dirty rocks.
Perhaps all this is repayment for those days,
To teach me that innocent times never stay.
As I grew I was in awe of your large tires,
Until that fabled day of the great Kumba fire.
When, from on high, your heavy tailgate released,
And the blood flow in my brain suddenly ceased.
Today, I’ve forgiven my large dump truck friend,
For putting my Peace Corps service to a possible end.
We’re cool now, oh earth-moving helper of man.
Even if my stubborn skull can’t make amends, I can.

I want to echo my deep thanks and tremendous appreciation for every individual who has stuck by me during this tumultuous journey. Progress is slow, therapy has come to an end, and the volunteer experience has been wonderful thus far. I continue to remain confident that things will continue to improve. Thanks, yet again.