Tuesday, January 17

bob and suz: the modern day noah and allie

last night, i was home alone. i woke up early, ran all my errands, did all my chores, even watched a movie. hours passed and i had been playing phone tag with my pops. my voicemails were building up ( my message machine tells people to pleeease not leave me one cause i hate them and never check them) so i just kept trying to call him back. at 8 o'clock, while i was planning my trip to mexico, he finally answered. his opening line was 'don't freak out, hay, but.." and then i freaked out. my dad doesn't exaggerate anything. in fact, he does the opposite. he makes everything seem as dull as possible, especially in emergencies. 

he told me that my mom and him had been driving home from grocery shopping when an enormous, lifted truck just veered into their lane causing a head on collision at 40 mph. My dad passed out and my mom was wedged in between the seat and the dashboard, both of their heads had been bashed on the windshield leaving terrible marks. At the time my dad was telling me this, my mom was in the ER and he had no idea how she was. He had told everyone he was fine, but after my mom overruled him (no surprise there) they found out he had bleeding in his brain that would inevitably result in seizures, strokes and or brain damage.

all of a sudden, i was 5 years old again. on the night my brother was babysitting us and my parents took too long on their date. we sat at the window, matt and i crying, waiting for them to return. in my mind, they had been in a car crash and were hurt somewhere all alone. except that turned out to be a silly fear, for they were parked in our driveway eating ice cream and talking the whole time. this time, it was real.

my parents are rocks. they don't fear pain, they are the hardest workers, and they never give up. my mom once fell off a galloping horse and popped out of the meadow, grinning ear to ear, with a   "that was fun!" They are so concerned with other people that they don't have the time nor the effort to think of themselves. So upon hearing such news, i was scared. more than that, i was hysterical. shaking with fear and concern. because you think your parents are superheroes. they can't die, i mean, yes. one day, in the far far future, they will quietly pass in their sleep, but never before. and never in a automobile accident. 

when i got to the ER, the nurse pointed to a cute little man with wispy hair and a hospital gown on and asked "that guy look familiar?" but he didn't. he wasn't the strong, solid father i knew.  when i went up to him, i couldn't give him the proper hug i wanted to. he was too tangled with IVs and weak with shock. Though he had successfully saved his Ute hat and sweatshirt that lay neatly by his side after causing 4 nurses and a doctor assist him in taking it off in order to resist them cutting it off, as they had done to my mom's clothing. He turned bashful when i patted his head and attempted to smooth his hair, then returning his Ute cap to its rightful spot. a picture of vulnerability, but with a streak of independence. no one could touch his favorite hat. 

in the next room, my mom, on the other hand,  had a pile of her favorite clothes cut perfectly in half laying beside her bed. she was writhing in pain as they tried to put her cast on. Her ear had dried blood all over it and her arms and legs were swollen with bruises and cuts. She took one look at me and knew i'd had a rough night, as mothers always know, and hugged me. as if i was the one who needed consoling. and still, after all the trauma, was able to laugh and say "well, i can't say this was as fun as my horse fall!" 

my brother and i stayed up with them til 4 in the morning, making them eat and take their pills, helping my mom in and out of her wheelchair and listening to them tell us the same things over and over again- which really only caused us to worry about how bad they really hit their heads. we were doing exactly what they had done for us for the last 20 and 24 years of our lives. knowing that by only a miracle from our Heavenly Father, had they somehow survived.

i learned a lot yesterday. i learned to never EVER take something as precious as life for granted. i learned that i couldn't do it without my parents. that moment when i feared for their lives, i couldn't imagine moving forward. I learned that i am so lucky. for so many different things, but mostly, lucky that the fear of death was never knocking at my door, that my parents had given me such a padded and sheltered lifestyle.

and finally, the reason for the title of this post: i know all of you can recall any and all details of the notebook. well the part at the end where allie asks noah if their love could create a miracle and he says "our love can do whatever we want it to" is what popped into my mind tonight. After the accident, my mom looked over to see a completely unconscious bob. With the blow to his head and the brain bleeding, he could have been out for hours, if not more. But   the only thing he recalls hearing was my moms soft, strained voice repeating "bobby, bobby, wake up".  And he did just that. as discombobulated as he was, he turned to my mom, saw she was hurt and trapped and push his way through the completely smashed door to get to her side. after it was all said and done, my mom overheard the police talking to one another. "how did the driver get out of his seat?" "he pushed his way out of the drivers side" "impossible. it was completely wedged shut, there is no way anyone could have managed that" 

but he did. after being completely unconscious. to save my mom. 

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