Hi, as I was surfing the Internet after searching about the tragic news of a good friend of mine. From then on I begun searching the names I’ve known. I came across to a website which I found out that it is somewhat a speech of my cousin. This is also very tragic, a blessing in disguise for his Second Lease on Life. Just wanna share it with you:

In 1997, my life ended. My first life, that is. But before I tell you about the end, let me start from the beginning.

I was born 21 years earlier in 1976, in a small town at the southernmost island of the Philippines. We didn’t stay there long since my father’s career kept us on the move. When I was three, we moved to Manila, the country’s capital city. The best  way to describe life in Manila is it’s a lot like living in a big city like Los Angeles—it is bustling, with lots of people, traffic on all freeways and, of course,  an abundant  amount of  pollution. We lived the typical middle class life—my father was a banker, my mother was a stay-at-home mom and I was an only child, studying in a Catholic private school. 

At ten, my father’s career had us moving again, this time to Guam. Guam is an island territory of the United States, about a 5-hour flight southwest of Hawaii. In Guam I was growing up as a typical teen, eating lots of fast food, watching hours of MTV and, of course, hanging out with friends in the local mall.

Five years later, as I got used to life in Guam, we had to go back to Manila. The move back was unnerving. I had to deal with reverse culture shock.  According to Wikipedia, reverse culture shock is more surprising and therefore more difficult to deal with than typical culture shock. My experience proves that theory to be true. After living in Guam for 5 years, my Americanized accent sounded funny to the local Filipino kids. I felt awkward and, at times, isolated. I guess it’s the same feeling any new student in school gets. In the end it all worked out, I got my “Filipino accent” back and was once again considered as a local. Life was back to normal again.

Maybe because I was an only child, I longed for total independence. At 18, I got my wish. For college, I went to a small business school in New England called Southern New Hampshire University. My life at the university was, somehow, the beginning of the end.  I was on my own, young and starting to get reckless, just getting by in school and spending more energy exploring my newfound freedom. There were too many weekends, too many parties, which of course meant high alcohol consumption. It didn’t help my summer vacations were spent in Manila, which was more conducive to irresponsible behavior. My social circle in the Philippines was comprised mainly of bored private school graduates with money and not enough to do with it.

It was the summer of 1997 and I was 21. Back in Manila for another vacation, it must have been 1 am and it was raining. My friend and I left a party and drove away in small pick up truck heading towards another party. Of course, neither one of us was in any condition to drive. He volunteered to drive since it was his vehicle we using that night. Half an hour later, we slammed into the back of a stalled 18 wheeler head on, at about 70 miles per hour.

In the Philippines, wearing seat belts is advised, but not mandatory.  In fact wearing one might insult the driver, as if you have no confidence in his driving abilities. In the state of New Hampshire, where I was attending college, wearing seat belts is not required by law either. So call it whatever you want—luck, fate, blessings from a higher power—but that rainy night, I decided to wear my seat belt.

The vehicle we were in was a total wreck. It was so horrific that our crash made big local news. We both survived. I broke my collar bone in half and had massive internal bleeding in which the doctors had to rush me into the operating room to save my life. I spent a month in the hospital and another month recuperating at home. Meanwhile, my friend had a broken jaw which had to be reconstructed with metal plates.

The accident was turning point for me, but the funny thing was I didn’t know it. It took 10 years before I really came to terms with the fact that I could have died. In 2006 I got married to Tracy and a year later my oldest son Raffy was born. Only then did I realize how lucky I was.

To this day, I still wonder what made me wear that seatbelt. Was it luck, fate or blessings from a higher power?  Whatever it may be, it gave a second chance in life. I now look back on my experience in a more positive way. Whenever I’m having a bad day and nothing seems to be going right, all I have to do is look at my wife and our two sons and think back on that night 13 years ago. I remind myself that is my second lease on life and I plan live every moment of it.

I hope for each one of you to take a moment and reflect on yourselves, to find an experience as life-changing as mine, and I hope it brings you inspiration to live every moment of your own lives.

Thank You.

Dennis Asunto

(Source: hpnorthside.wordpress.com)