The Gift

One year ago today, Carl gave me a gift that was more meaningful to me than any other in the years we have been married. On the morning of August 7, 2008, when his motorcycle rounded the corner and his legs slammed the steel-enforced vinyl fence posts, he was thrown from his cycle and landed in the grass along the side of the road. His first response was to call me. He knew that I was outside in the back yard, waiting for him to return home with the camera so we could finish a photo shoot we were working on for our company. He also knew I did not have my cell phone on me (it was always a bit of a frustration to him that I rarely carried my phone)so he called the house phone, knowing that I would eventually get the message there.

I heard the sirens wail and I knew. I don't how else to say it, I just knew that my husband was in an accident. I had a strong sense that there would be a phone message about it on the answering machine in the house, but in a twisted state of logic, I decided if I don’t go inside, I won’t have to listen to what the message says. I actually watered my outdoor flower pots on the patio and puttered around a few minutes longer, delaying the inevitable.

I finally mustered my courage and walked in to the house, straight to the blinking machine in the kitchen.I pushed the button, and my brain registered what I was hearing, but my heart stood still. It was Carl’s voice.

His voice was strong, he spoke very quickly and only later did I hear the raw pain and shock in his voice.

"Hey Babe I had an accident coming north on New Holland Rd. (garbled) I’m fine, I’m fine, just came through a fence , didn’t make the corner, my legs are busted up but I’m fine. Nothing wrong with my head, nothing wrong with my upper body, just my legs. I’m fine. Coming north on New Holland Rd. Just off 340, about a half mile on the right. I’m fine, baby, don’t worry, I’m fine.”

I grabbed my cell phone, ran out to the truck and called Carl from the road. He doesn't remember it, but my cell phone records indicate that we had a 1 min. 20 sec. conversation. He repeated what had happened and since he was being loaded into the ambulance as we spoke,I went directly to the hospital.

Our daughter Tessa was home at the time and she went with me. Even as I was listening to the doctor's somber assessment of Carl's injuries, I kept telling myself, "He will be fine. He told me so. And I believe him." By the time I actually saw Carl that morning, he was in a drug-induced coma and on a breathing machine, being wheeled off for emergency surgery. That phone call kept me grounded for the next weeks when I felt like my entire world was falling apart.

(By the way, his message is still on our answering machine at home. I'm not sure why, since I have only been able to listen to it once in the past year--it's too hard for me now to hear the pain in Carl's voice--but it is also very precious to me. I may never erase it.)

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to my wonderful husband. I love the saying, "Grow old with me, the best is yet to be." I thank God many times for giving us another chance at growing old together.

And my deepest gratitude to all of you who have shared in our journey these past 12 months. Your prayers and your support have been unwavering and your trust that God would make a way for us through this sitution has strengthened our faith.

I haven't decided whether I will continue this blog. Actually, I'm thinking about starting a brand new one, which will feature our first grandchild, who will be debuting in late November of this year! We get to be Nana and Pop-Pop! They tell me an exciting adventure lies ahead.

-Fan