Posts Tagged ‘drunk driving’

Rosemary’s Poem

This poem was written for a friend of mine who barely survived an accident with a drunk driver.  It was presented to her on Easter Sunday, April the 8th, which was the 5th anniversary of the new life she was given.  It will be read at a M.A.D.D. (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) event in Denver at the end of April, 2012.


I was only driving into work

To take care of my kids

When you made a choice to take from me

Nearly all I had to give.


Not only were you very drunk

But should not be here at all

An illegal man from Mexico

Put behind our prison walls.


You tore my body almost in half

My ribs were in my lungs

My left arm and shoulder were torn away

My right leg and foot just hung.


They pronounced me dead at 3:04 am

On Sunday, April the eight

And told my friends to bring my kids

For they feared it was too late.


But then the Police Chief called to them

To tell them I had life

And to bring the kids down anyway

For I may not live past night.


My surgery ten hours long

Was only to sustain

Until the doctor could figure out

How to make me whole again.


Courtney cried and when her tears

Fell down onto my arm

They say that tears came from my eyes

Making death a false alarm.


That beautiful angel stayed by me

Refusing to take a break

She held my hand and talked to me

Saying I smiled, but would not wake.


Many could not come to me

For I was broken to the eye

They could not handle the way I looked

Without breaking down to cry.


Due to my state of comatose

They had to sell our home

The kids were staying with my friend Dave

To keep things close to norm.


My sleep it lasted two months long

Until my eyes would open

And because my name’s Hispanic nature

They assumed that’s what I’d spoken.


Interpreters and Spanish forms

Down my throat were thrust

Five languages I’d spoke before

It simply was unjust.


After twenty-eight long surgeries

And over thirty broken bones

Adding metal to my knees and hips

And my legs before they’re sown.


The doctor came to me in June

And said, “Because you’re paralyzed

We’re moving you to a nursing home,”

And I was mortified.


I begged him keep me a little more

To give me one more chance

He said I’d have to walk away

And cook if I had a chance.


I begged he pull these tubes from me

For how I breathed and I was fed

And the filter pulled from within my heart

For I watched it from the bed.


I had to learn to dress again

To speak and then to eat

For you traumatized my brain so much

That it nearly chose defeat.


I worked out in the gym as much

As they would take me there

For I had to get home to my kids

To lighten their despair.


My eyes had gone in different ways

And it caused me to see double

It would get my scrambled brain confused

And cause all kinds of trouble.


By July’s end I prepared a meal

For the staff upon my floor

To prove that I could feed myself,

My kids and many more.


And then to all of their surprise

With a walker I was driven

And walked myself right out the door

Into the new life I was given.


Dealing with brain injury

Is never an easy chore

For Brandon took it harder than most

Because of what we’d had before.


He’s tried so hard to talk with me

But the words no longer there

Some days it’s hard to even speak

And to him it is not fair.


One day he bought a book for me

“To the one my virtue instilled

The power of knowledge inside of me

Will come back if it is willed.”


“You are all that holds you back!”

Is what he wrote to me

Just as I had said to him

For all of eternity.


As Courtney would always say

The hardest part in getting through

Was when they’d say, “I understand,

I know what you’re going through.”


She knew they didn’t really know

Or even understand

Like when she’d say, “My mom can do it!”

Then they’d laugh and pat her hand.


Now the toughest job for me to do

Is providing for my kids

This highly educated college girl

Suddenly hit the skids.


The one thing drunks don’t realize

Is how much they affect

The lives of those connected to

The ones that they impact.


I pulled myself out of this grave

To come home to my kids

I’m here and not about to leave

Begging God forbid!


All I ask of those who drink

Is to be responsible

And to think of all that you can take

By acting such a fool.


~Pamela K. Pfertsh

April 8, 2012

©April 10, 2012

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