I almost died.
That’s not hyperbole, I mean literally. I stood probably at the altar if not kneeling before the final passage once again. It’s not the first time it’s actually happened to me.
When I was 19 I was in a bad car accident. I collided with a milk truck on an icy road and split my tiny car in half. That’s not hyperbole either, it split in the middle in half in a violent collision that even disabled the truck. Miraculous I had but a scratch on me. My feet were dangling off the road and my cell phone was a few feet in front of me. I could have been scrambled or maimed in a million different ways. But I was fine. No internal bleeding or anything at all. I went to the hospital, but I was cleared and released. I felt like hell the next day but that’s what it feels like to get hit by a truck. People touched me like it was a miracle and hugged my young wife at the time, but it was probably more a miracle that I fully realized.
I didn’t really have control of that. It happened, and I remember some of the details, but there was no “slowing of time” or anything weird. I knew what was happening when it happened and braced myself for it. But there really was no time for prayer. The reflection was confusing as well. I don’t know of the lesson or the fact of “appreciate life”, other than crazy things happen sometimes that are out of your control.
There might have been time this last time but I’m still searching for meaning right now.
We went boating, as we liked to do in the summer. We rent pontoons so we can drive and swim and tow all together. This lake was choppy and the wind was strong however, and when we anchored to swim, we quickly learned how strong this current was. But it was too quick of a turn of events that prevented us from truly digesting our errors.
When we go in the lake, my girls usually fight over who goes first. Swimming in an unknown bottom body of water is scary, and even though there’s no sharks or scary things but just annoyed fish, it’s still your imagination that runs wild. So I jumped in first, which I typically always do to get it going. It was cold like lakes are but I swam around easily. Looking back, I subconsciously noted how tall the waves were, but it happened too fast for me to truly register the difference. The girls had jumped in by the time I had gotten back on the boat and my dad had gone in last. When I had gotten back up on top, I saw that he had lost his signature hat. It was semi floating in the water. He had abandoned it, and again, thinking back to how he was struggling to swim back to the boat should have given me enough pause. But I was already mid jump. I had to swim to his hat, but I grabbed it, and even while I grabbed it I knew it was a mistake. The waves that were rolling were 2 feet high. This was no gentle lake, and even as a former life guard and strong swimmer I had a bad feeling in my gut. I even knew enough as I over hand swam back I told myself, “I’m not dying on this stupid lake today”.
I swam about 2-3 bursts of strokes, pausing to stop and grab my bearings, and when I saw myself no closer to the boat I knew I had to call out. I was still a good 20-30 feet out as the boat was drifting in the wind, further away from me. My voice still haunts me now, because it wasn’t my voice. It was high, and funny pitched. The breathing was at the top of my range, and while I wasn’t panicked, I knew I was in trouble. I yelled “help”, which sounded meek, but I managed another “help me” to get the attention of my kids and my father. They looked at me quizzically, because they didn’t recognize the sound. They even gave me a “do you need help?” Before I had to confirm for a third time that I didn’t have long. I turned to try and rescue swim, but the waves crashing into made this impossible. The waves crashed into my face in front and behind, preventing that deep breath less you take in a full mouth of water and expend precious air or energy. That coupled with swelling water and trying to stay afloat left me in a very rapidly devolving situation.
The kids and my father went into panic mode, desperately looking for anything to throw to me. They tried a life jacket, but it was so windy that it went over their head and behind them, they tried a rope to no avail. I managed a “throw me something” but with the same weird tone and voice that will most likely forever haunt me. I was patient at this point, nervous but not scared. I knew I had time, but that I wouldn’t make it to the boat.
I didn’t yet know what the true fear was until my daughter jumped at me with the life jacket. While my father was looking for something to throw, my niece was attempting to drive the boat but having a hard time doing so. She managed to get the boat slightly closer, but it was parallel to me, so I ended up more towards the back of the boat. My daughter jumped in the water with a life jacket but only one. And as she pushed it towards me, I felt true fear. “go back!” I yelled at her. I grabbed the jacket but didn’t put my weight on it. From my life guard training, I knew that panicked people will push others down in their attempt to swim. I wasn’t panicked, I was in danger, but somewhat calm. I had true fear that my daughter would get stuck like I would, and there was no way I would save myself over her. That is when I felt that I could truly die. Or that she could as well. We were still 10-12 feet away from the boat.
I struggled at that point, trying to swim with her but being careful to hold the jacket if she needed it. She made it back to the boat, and I took a rest on the jacket for a second to take a deeper breath and finally get a proper exhale out. The break gave me enough energy to kick, and I began to kick to the final feet as the rope finally got to me and i was able to pull my self into the boat. I didn’t have much time to fully rest as my niece had to drive us out of the way of an encroaching cement pylon. We had anchored near a bridge, and the wind had pushed us all the way towards it. My niece drove us out seconds from crashing into it. After my father and I yanked the useless anchor up, I sat back, my head pounded from the lack of oxygen, my legs aching from treading and my neck and shoulders tight from the tension. We drove back toward the middle of the lake, and took stock of the situation. A few hundred feet away was the dock, an area where I used to swim as a child, only feet deep and a potential final resting place. We drove the boat back to the dock after sitting for a while, trying to make the best of the trip while still not truly digesting the situation. We got Chinese food later that night. My fortune said “you’ll have some money floating your way soon”.
It really didn’t sink in until the next day, thinking of the recap and hearing my voice again in my head that I began to sob uncontrollably. I felt shame. I had callously ignored rules, ones I knew or should have known, made an un safe play and put myself and others at risk. I feel that I knew it was bad the second I hit the water, but at that point I had already committed. I put my kids at risk and the what-ifs overwhelmed me. I even felt shame of the notes of my voice and the vulnerability I displayed in front of my girls. As a parent, being smart and leading meant that I was jeopardizing my credibility as well. But I was also proud of the fact that they saved me, despite an initial panic and uncertainty. I’m still unsure of the lessons days later-the obvious ones are there-wear a life jacket, don’t go into the water when the waves are high, etc. I’m still reflecting on larger ones-is my life going the way that it’s supposed to? I don’t feel like I’m bigger than nature, and I certainly don’t feel like I’m missing something that needs pizzaz here, I’m respecting and reverent of my place in the world and nature. It would fully go on without me, a small part that affects only my local circle but probably not much more beyond that. I’ll have to spend more time thinking about that because I still have no idea if that was a wake up call for beyond. If anything, life still has a plan for me, because I’m still here. I just thought I’d share one of my most vulnerable points.