I pulled up to the stop light. It was 7pm. Around the time I expected to get home, though two hours earlier than I was scheduled to get home.

I had just done well at school. Really well on the testing I did that day.

That sky was a weird mixture of passing rain clouds and setting sun. I would best describe it as "pretty."

One of my fave bands, Casting Crowns, was playing on the radio.

The streets were a friendly-sorta-busy, and some kids rode their bikes on the side walks.

It struck me that I truly am happy with my life and the direction it was going. And I felt peace.

I stood at the red light waiting for it to change. But I wasn't in a hurry. I was content.

The red lights on the progressing blocks blurred together as my vision blurred, deep in thought.

I thought about how good I felt at the moment. And how happy I was. And I thought about how I would never remember the moment, or the cool sky, or the blurring stop lights. But I hoped I would remember how I felt.

Then I tried to think about how I felt at that moment the year before.

Scared probably. I was sick and I knew it. And the next day I was going to the doctor to talk about it, knowing exactly what she would tell me, but not caring, just hoping she would fix me.

I don't remember much about Sept 28, 2005. I don't know what I did. I don't know what the day of the week was. But it was my last day not having diabetes.