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I can see death looming ahead of me, as my plane slowly spirals down towards the ground. It is scary how things can change in an instant, one minute you will be soaring, freer than a bird, the next you may be plummeting towards the earth, just as I am. My plane is rattling, my heart is thumping and my eyes are slowly closing as all hope of living is draining away.
My brain is slowly awakening as my body drifts in and out of reality; I know I am alive, as I am half awake yet I am defiantly still asleep. I can sense my family around me, wearily waiting for me to awake from my slumber; I can feel their pain growing as each minute passes. I know I am in hospital now, as I can smell the sterile air and tasteless food, all the smells I have grown to despise over the years previous to now. I can remember back to the crash, that one horrific event that may drastically change my life forever! I can remember the feeling of helplessness as the engine stopped running and the feeling of horror and dread as the plane slowly began to fall. Most of all I remember the feeling of regret, regretting that I didn’t spend enough time with my family, regretting that I didn’t tell them I loved them enough or telling them how much they really meant to me, regretting the fact that I may never get to see their faces again. My family is my everything; they are my lifeline, the very thing I need the most.
I remember all the bush barbeques we had together, laughing and talking around a fire, cooking sausages and steak for our tucker. I remember swimming in our dam even when it was raining and cold outside, Mustering our cattle in the Summer, riding my horse late at night when I was supposed to be inside doing homework. The thing I remember the most was the gentle pattering sound that the rain made on our tin roof, it was almost as if it was singing us a lullaby, telling us stories about our land we have come to live in.
As my mum would say, "you are not a failure until you give up", I had not given up, I will keep fighting until I have nothing more left to give. My mum is wise and gentle, she knew when I was lying and when I was upset, she knew my moods and how to keep me happy. I also know her; she would be distraught at the sight of me lying here in hospital, hanging on to my life by a thread. Even though she would be hurting, she would be keeping the hope alive, she would go home and for awhile stand under her favorite oak tree, silently praying for me to be okay, she would let a few tears slide down her face leaving tracks on her perfectly soft skin, then she would stand up straight, look around and slowly wander back to the house as if nothing had ever taken place. She is the rock of our family, everyone looks to her for support, but sometimes she needs support herself.
This is where my Dad comes in, he would hold my mum when she was down and tell her it was all going to be ok. He is a shy person but you can tell he loves my mum with all his heart; he would do anything to make her happy. Dad loves the farm, the harsh weather, the beautiful landscape, the miraculous change of events, the farm means so much to him. He has lived on our farm since he was a small child, he knows every paddock, every landmark and every event that has occurred since his parents bought the farm years and years ago. Knowing he is here, in the hospital surprises me, he hates hospitals even more than I do, he dreaded coming and visiting Grandpa here, we would have to bribe or sometimes, even force him to come with us.
My Grandfather was a very inspirational person in my life, he was strong and wise; everything I look for in a person. We were very close to each other, I would tell him my problems and he would give me advice in return. Grandpa could always tell when I was upset and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t keep anything from him, he knew how to make me tell him what was upsetting me and when I left I would always feel better. When I found out Grandpa had been battling lung cancer for more than a year, I was beyond upset, I was distraught, I wouldn’t talk to anyone and I would go and visit him everyday. He told me he only had a month left to live and he couldn’t leave the hospital, I was a mess, the one person I knew I could trust was going to leave my life forever and I couldn’t take it. For the next month, grandpa was slowly loosing his battle, he was getting weaker and weaker until one day he was gone. After this, I could never go near a hospital, everything in the hospital reminded me of him and it was too much for me to take.
My family, my farm, my country, my life, everything happens for a reason, but I’m not ready to leave just yet.
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