I Shouldn't Be Here

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.