I didn’t intend to spend the beginning of June recovering from a nasty car accident, and yet, that’s what I find myself doing.
Last Thursday, I hit another car in the middle of a busy intersection, just as 5 o’clock traffic was revving up. My son was in the passenger seat as the airbags deployed and we went skidding sideways. I’ve never been in a wreck like that, and honestly, I’m still a bit shocked when I think back on it. Also still shocked that my son knows how to cuss so well, but I digress… 😉
It’s like my mind can’t quite comprehend the reality of sitting on the side of the road, trying to keep it together, as my totaled car was towed away. But my body remembers. I’m driving my husband’s old farm truck for now, and the steering wheel feels like it’s too close. Like it will fly up and whack me at any moment.
It wasn’t until I had my first fall off a horse that I realized how an otherwise physical trauma can shake things up mentally and emotionally, too. This car accident feels similar to getting back in the saddle again. (Never thought I’d be grateful for that experience! 🤪)
A couple days after the accident, I was updating family on how we were doing and decided to call up my Gramps. He was a pilot in WWII and then built his own plane after the war. Yes, he built it himself. So cool.
It was a really sharp looking, open cockpit bi-plane - red with a rooster painted on the side. I only got to fly with him once, but it was memorable to say the least. A corkscrew, a loop de loop… so glad he deemed the touch and go too much for my 10-year-old self. 😅
When I was in junior high, Gramps was out flying on an otherwise beautiful afternoon and hit an electric line running across a field. His plane took a nose dive and crashed into the ground. Needless to say, his life was forever changed that day; he’s been partially blind and hard of hearing ever since. He had to say goodbye to the future he thought he would have and completely reimagine his retirement years.
Now, he’s 95 and still lives on his own in the home he had built for his family back in the 60’s. He has a tight knit group of “old geezer friends” and made it through the covid pandemic with flying colors. And when he dishes out wisdom, I listen.
I’d been feeling guilty about the wreck, about making a mistake, about endangering my son and and the woman I collided with. But when my Gramps picked up the phone, he told me:
You just gotta get ok with what is and then look forward to what’s next.
If ever there was someone who could give me advice from a place of personal experience, it would be my Gramps. I’d never actually thought about his wreck as the direct result of a mistake he made (it was). It was just an accident, right?
I’m still feeling a bit down about it all, but seeing my grandfather’s experience more clearly and hearing his advice has allowed me to navigate my own experience with a lot more grace. Did I make a mistake? Yes. Am I learning from it. Hell yes.
I’m getting ok with what is… insurance and medical bills and finding a new car. Healing and getting back in the saddle again.
And I’m looking forward to what’s next…
Not exactly sure what that looks like yet, but I know there’s going to be some slowing down and enjoying the simple things in life. Afternoons by the pool with my kids, a traipse around the property in an actual saddle, a really good novel. 😊
I wish the same for you this summer. Quality time with the people you love, the space to do the things that fill you up, and lots of rest and relaxation. Sounds nice, huh? 🙏🏻
Take care,
Hannah
So good, Hannah
Sounds wonderful 💜