BillionPieces By: Dave Scott In the time it takes to tell someone you love them, your very being can simply disappear from this earth as we know it. I have written and talked before about my heart attack five years ago. I was out for a run with my wife and friends when it occurred on that momentous day. The reality of the five-year milestone came up recently in a conversation with my wife. To be totally honest, I didn't realize it had been that long. That night and the next couple of days, I struggled with reliving and processing the event of that terrible night in my mind. I have always felt that some part of my spirit was left out there that evening. I know that may sound a little beyond reason, but I have to tell you that being within the grasp of death and somehow finding a way back to life, there was a cost paid, and I know that. That underlying current within me needed to be addressed, and I decided that I would go for a run and return to the spot where my world suddenly stopped. I had not been there for about 3 ½ years, and I was fully aware that it would be an emotional return.
Early one Saturday morning, long before the rest of the world was ready to rise and shine, I set out on the trail leading to that fateful location. I felt nervous and unsure; my pace was up and down, and I needed to remind myself to just relax and enjoy the beauty of the morning run. Your mind can be tricky, and a thought flashed through my mind, what happens if it occurs again? Roughly a mile in, I came upon the exact location. I stopped and looked down. I could feel the sadness of the moment well up. I made myself stay in the spot, trying to feel that lost energy that had left that day. I was reaching for it, but it was out of my grasp; I could then sense the anger building. Why did that happen to me?! My emotions were taking over as the last memory of that moment five years ago flashed back, that unbelievable, surreal feeling of a billion pieces of warm love that washed over me in those fleeting seconds of death. I cannot explain it. I can only tell you that the imprint of that moment will be etched within my being for the rest of my days! I stood alone at this spot five years later, trying to pull back what was taken from me that day, trying to understand why my journey continues. My emotions swirled endlessly; the moment was overwhelming, I needed to run. Slowly my perspective began to snap back to the current reality, and I let my body take over and focused on the run at hand.
