In the Blink of an Eye

Over 20 years ago I was in a horrible car accident. A pickup truck on the opposite side of the highway hit black ice and came flipping through the grass median and right towards me. The young man driving the pickup was ejected from the car and went sliding down the icy highway as I hit his truck (which did not land on me) and a chain reaction ensued. I was not injured. The 17-year-old driver of the pickup was killed.

That accident was the first time in my life that I sincerely believed I was going to die. As that truck flipped toward me I knew that would be the end of me. The truck was going to land on top of my car, and me. People say that your life flashes before your eyes in a moment like that and it does…it’s amazing how much you can think of in the blink of an eye.

Traumatic events, aside from scaring the shit out of you can also be life changing. I became mortal that day with a clear understanding that I could be gone at any moment. My world became divided into before the accident and after. I could no longer go out driving in a car on a snowy day. I would call in sick to work too terrified to leave the house…fortunately I had a boss who understood. Almost 25 years later I am still terrified driving on snowy and icy roads.

My daughter and her two children were recently in a serious car accident that totaled her car. No one was hurt (physically) and no other car was involved in the accident…all good news. But I was left with a haunting fear of losing them…I was traumatized after the fact. Traumatized because we are human and we die…I was going to say we could die, which sounds nicer but we do die…and we don’t know when…I hate that. I couldn’t help wondering what my world would be like without them in it?

Those events bring such fear, just thinking about them…fear of losing control…fear at the terrifying realization that I do not have control. My young grandchildren are mortal…one day those sweet children will die…and I have no idea when and I have no control over it. That leaves me feeling groundless and vulnerable.

And here’s the thing…I really want to be in control of pretty much everything. I seem to have an inflated idea of my potential to run the world. I want to control everyone that matters to me so they are safe all the time. When my children, all adults, come to visit or drive home (a trip of less than an hour) I always tell them to drive safe…and I expect those words to protect them…make a little, impenetrable bubble that they live safely in all their lives.

The idea that I cannot control these things gives me anxiety…there’s a whole world out there where things go wrong for people every day. The reality is I can control very little…myself…short list. And I only have so much control over myself…because the world interacts with me in ways I cannot necessarily predict and definitely cannot control.

The reality is that everything does change in the blink of an eye. I think and act as though the tighter I hold on to something the less likely it is to get away from me…so I provide pretend protection to those around me…like saying drive safe or always kissing my wife before she goes to work and saying I love you…actions and words that provide me with a false sense of safety…my made up sense of safety….my house of cards, and a tornado is coming…Auntie Emm, Auntie Emm…☺ The tornado is life…and more life.

I have noticed that I can spend so much energy trying to control what’s impossible to control that I miss the opportunity to control the things I can…now there’s a sentence. I heard the author Jen Sincero speak one evening here in Colorado. In her talk she gave three things to remember everyday…of course I only remember one (sorry Jen)…that I am going to die. What would my life be like if I lived every day as if it were my last day? What would I do? I know I would love the people in my life as completely and deeply as I possibly could. I would tell them, with words and actions, exactly how much they mean to me. I would make sure they knew the difference they have made in my life. I would keep our bulldog, Abby, close to me. I would not be afraid of taking chances because I would know it was my last chance. I wouldn’t worry about failing or being embarrassed because I’d be dust at the end of the day. No reason to care what others think….

How do I live fearlessly each day…with my rawness vulnerability exposed? In a Melissa Etheridge song she describes her skin as “painfully new”. My skin is painfully new too…and old wound was torn open and I am trying to put myself back together again. Maybe I can be rearranged in a way that I can be fearless and vulnerable and still live? That is the question of the week….