what might have been
Have you ever had a “what might have been,” an instance where you can clearly see what could have happened, what might have happened, what very well should have happened?
I had one yesterday and it frightened me to my core. It made me realize how grateful I am for my life. As I snuggled up with Richard last night, I trembled just thinking that I might not have been in his arms, that he might not have had me ever to hold again in this life, that my children would have been without my mothering for the rest of their lives and I would not have had the privilege of being with them day in and day out.
Yesterday as I was driving home from gym, I got stuck in a 55 mph construction zone. I couldn’t get out of it, so I made the best of it by talking to Kat about our fundraiser for Maggie’s Month. I saw a large rock hurtling toward me and instinctively ducked and of course, started screaming. It hit us hard and I was waiting for the windshield to shatter. Nothing happened. There was not a mark on the windshield. Baffled, I continued to drive home. When we got there I ran in the house and practiced my cello, got dressed and fancied up and came back out to drive to my cello recital. Keziah was looking at the top of the suburban and announced that the rock had hit us and cracked the top. I climbed up and looked and sure enough, there was a crack right above where my head is at when I am driving. I was kind of freaked out, thinking, wow, I am really glad it hit up there, but I was also in a hurry to get to my recital, so I didn’t think about it too much. Besides, I didn’t really know what it all meant.
After my recital, I showed it to Richard, who does know what it all meant, and he said I very easily could have been killed. He said for a rock to do that much damage means it probably would have come through the windshield and hit me in the head…and could have killed me.
As his words sunk in, I looked around me at my precious children and realized it was quite possible that I could be dead at that moment.
Throughout the night, I thought about it more and more. My insides twisted in knots and I felt like I was going to lose my dinner. I thought about what I would have left them. What memories they would have of me. What truths they would be able to cling to to help them through the rest of their lives. What I had taught them in their short time with me. What my Richard would do without me.
How much I would miss them. How much I wanted to wrap them all up in my arms and hide in a cave for the rest of our lives and somehow try to prevent anything bad from happening to any of us.
The reality is, any of us could be taken home at any moment of any day. It’s just that we don’t, at least, I don’t often think about it. I think I will be here as an old grandma enjoying my great-grandchildren running around my yard. I think I have oodles of time to spend with my family. Oodles of time to teach them, love them, strengthen them.
Last night reminded me that I don’t.
I am grateful to be here today and to be enjoying Fisher’s sixth birthday with him. We are planning on fishing the day away and coming home with some big trout for dinner.
Thank you to my God for protecting me from that rock. Three inches lower and everything might have been quite different this morning.
I’m so glad you’re okay!!
Thank you for the reminder of the uncertainity of life. I’m so glad you are okay – I can’t imagine life without you!!!
Bec