I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be alive. Thank You
God for letting me live.
Those three sentences have been a constant mantra of mine
for the last fifteen years.
I shouldn’t be here.
There is no explanation for why I was not killed. People have died in less severe accidents
than I experienced. I shouldn’t have
survived. I should have died.
My life and the course I was on were forever altered that
fateful September day in 1997. I should
have died. I should have been crushed to
death. I should have lost limbs. I should have been decapitated. But, I was not. I lived.
I have all my limbs. I only
suffered broken bones and a minor (in the scheme of things) brain injury.
At that time, I was engaged and planning on that being my
last year of school, so I could get married and become a wife. However, the worst laid plans have a way of
being blown up. Blown into
smithereens. Shattered. And then a new path is shown to you down that
broken road. You see, I was in a car
accident on I-15, mile marker 189 on Monida Pass in south western Montana. I rolled my Ford Bronco II five times while
going 75 miles an hour. I should have
died. Yet, I did not.
While I was recovering at my parents’ home and even to this
day, I wonder, “Why did I not die? Why
was I spared?” My mother and paternal grandmother
Martha always had the answer during those days.
It was simple. “God has other
plans for you. You are needed on a
different path. There are no accidents
or coincidences in life.”
During my recovery, I experienced even more loss.
One of my dearest friends was killed.
I broke off my engagement. I
almost flunked out of school. I would
experience lapses in memory and find myself somewhere I had no recollection of
getting to (no alcohol needed). I felt
that I was at rock bottom. I did want to
die. I contemplated it. I was so scared. I could not see that path I needed to be
on.
However, during that time, hope was given to me. A new path was shown to me. The man that is now my husband entered my
life. Better plans were made.
So, I go back to there being no coincidences in life. Life has made that quite clear to me. Our daughter was born on September 8,
2005. However, her due date was
September 5, 2005- the 8 year anniversary of my little car accident. My new path and new life had a celebration on
the anniversary of what could have been the date of my death. New life was being celebrated.
My Grandmother Martha passed away on April 4, 2006. She was a strong willed woman. She and my mother always pushed me to be
more. Never settle. Our son was born on April 4, 2007. Again, we were celebrating life on a tragic
anniversary.
When I get up in the morning, I look in the mirror and wonder,
“Am I dreaming? Is this real?” It is real.
This is my second chance. This is
my path. I shouldn’t be here, but I
am. I shouldn’t be alive, but with every
breath I know that I am. Every tear and
laugh I still can share, I am alive. I
know that my path may be broken, but it is the path I need to be on. Thank God I am still alive. Thank God for second chances. Grasp every first chance you get, because
there may not be a second chance.