Almost a month later, here’s my part two to “When Life Happens.” If you’re just arriving, check out part one here. I’ve put this blog off so much, I think, because I was avoiding feeling sad. Life has become somewhat normal again, and I thought that dwelling on it would just make me unhappy. Writing this, though, didn’t upset me as much as it made me grateful.
If my mother passed off any of her good qualities to me (and let’s hope so!), it’s that I at least make the attempt to hold tight to a positive attitude and find the beauty in things. Sometimes I am successful in my efforts, and sometimes the innately cynical person inside overcomes. Nothing is good, right or beautiful about my mother’s death from an earthly viewpoint, but as a believer, I KNOW that my momma is rejoicing in Heaven. God has called her home. She’s perfect and happy, and at the very bottom of everything, that makes me happy too.
I think about the opportunity I had to care for her and spend such a large amount of time with her throughout her battle. She wasn’t taken from us in an instant. We were allowed the time to show her how much she meant to us and to tell her ourselves while she could still listen and understand. I am so grateful for that time, and though I miss her an incredible amount, I’m glad her suffering is over.
I’ve told you most of the story, but there was a little part that I left out. Something beautiful happened to me that slapped me in the face (well, head…) and brought me a bit of peace in the middle of the storm. On Wednesday, April 22, three days before Mom passed, I had a head on collision with the interstate wall. I was on my way to meet my parents at that doctors appointment I told you about – the one where the doctor kneeled in front of my mom and told her to go home, and she consoled him instead. I only heard about this visit, though, because I was in the ER in a neck brace and strapped to a stretcher. I’ve never been in anything more than a fender bender before, so the whole thing was pretty insane to me.
I was driving and crying. Don’t drive and cry, folks. I went to change lanes, and there was a truck in my blind spot. I panicked and lost control. I remember trying hard to regain control of my car, but after realizing that it wasn’t going to happen, I had a “Jesus Take the Wheel” moment. Literally. I cried out to God and told him I did not want to die and begged Him to protect me, and He did. That’s beautiful, right? After realizing that I was conscious and that I made it through, I thanked Him and thanked Him. Outloud, with my hands in the air. I had a true worship experience covered in blood, you guys.
That in itself brings me so much joy. Most of my prayers lately, if I am being completely honest, have been prayers of anger and questioning God about why this awful cancer happened to someone I loved so much. I’m glad that this wreck happened, because it slapped me in the face with some humility.
I broke the windshield with my head in two places, and let me tell you, heads bleed A LOT. I thought at the beginning that my injuries were much worse than they actually were because of all the blood. One of the witnesses who pulled over to see if I was alright was a lifesaver helicopter pilot. He had me wrapped and bandaged before the ambulance was even close. That’s beautiful, right? I mean, what are the odds?
When Eric got to the scene, I watched my husband ninja jump over the median wall of the interstate to get to me. The median wall is SO HIGH and he NINJA JUMPED it. With super human strength, he bounced over that wall with one swift movement. Then he ran to me. That was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and I will remember it just as vividly as I will remember walking down the aisle to him. He ran to me because he is my protector and my best friend. And then, he slept on the couch in my hospital room, held my hair back as I vomited the next few days and fed me pain pills every four hours, on the dot. That’s love. Beautiful, beautiful love and a true illustration of what a blessing marriage is. Through thick and thin, bloody and healthy, good hair days and days with a bald spot (that windshield shaved off a good bit of my hair!!), marriage is a big part of what will get us through the hard times.
When life is knocking you down, take a second to find the beauty in the midst of the ugly. I’m still working on it, but I learned from the best. Thanks, Mom.
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