My God, what a year it’s been. Last year at this time I was in a relationship I thought would be the last of my life, even as it was falling apart and nearly gone. I had just published my novella, DRIVING TO BELAIR. I was coming off back surgery in April and still going through twice-weekly physical therapy sessions that would last until Thanksgiving. I just bought an old red S-15 truck off my dad thinking I would drive it for a few months and sell it.

That S-15 is still in the driveway. The back hasn’t quite healed right. No new relationships, though I did inherit a cute little puppy from the last one. And today, I spent 5 hours (actually 3 and a half, I took a siesta around noon) mowing what felt like a never-ending yard with a push-mower that’s older than me. Read more »

April 13, 2011, I had back surgery.  I don’t remember much about that day, other than how terrified I was going into the surgery and how good the drugs they give you for surgery really work.

I can’t believe it’s been a year.

My back first went out in April, 1999. For twelve years, I fought a severe pain. For long stretches of time during those twelve years, I had to use a cane to walk. Sometimes my left leg would just stop working.

And I’ve been pain free for a year.

2011 will not go down in my personal history as one of the better years of my life. But it was, perhaps, one of the most profound because that was the year I got my life back.

I wish I had something profound to write to mark this occasion. Alas, I don’t. As the world commemorates the 100th anniversary of the Titanic disaster, I just realized that I have my own commemoration to mark.

They say after back surgery your back has no strength at all, and gains one percent of its strength back every week after surgery. I’ve just barely crossed the halfway point. I’m stronger than I can ever remember being before. Next year, I can’t even imagine how strong I could be.

Thank God for simple miracles like a good back surgeon.