MISSING IN ACTION . . .

Wow . . . I cannot believe that Mother's day(ish) was the last time I posted here . . . I don't even think I have signed in or read anything anywhere since then . . . I guess LIFE happened . . . and -- literally -- almost death . . .


I am still trying process that whole experience. I almost died. I came REALLY really close . . . Maybe I should have died, I don't know . . .


I have had some close calls before in my life . . . lots of trips to emergency rooms for stitches . . . once when I was a teenager I jumped into a swimming pool onto a floating raft, and to my surprise, it flipped out from underneath me and I FELT my head brush the side of the pool, narrowly missing having my brains splattered all over the deck . . . Nobody else around me knew what had almost happened, but *I* did . . . I knew that I had come really close to at best, a very very serious head injury, and at worst, death.


Another time my brakes went out on the freeway when I had a car full of kids. I have NO idea how I managed to maneuver over to the side of the freeway safely, let alone get clear home . . . Again, everybody else knew it was DANGEROUS, but I am not sure anyone else knew that our lives had been spared, but *I* did . . .


Then last summer happened . . .


In the midst of an exciting, thrilling, joyful family gathering to celebrate new love and the start of a new family unit, I was once again tapped on the shoulder . . . or more accurately, I was mugged in the alley with a baseball bat by the grim reaper . . . and when I woke up after about thirty hours during which I have NO idea what happened, except what I have since been told . . . and as I gradually became aware of what was going on, I realized that it had happened yet again.


I don't know why that thought is SO difficult to wrap my head around, even now, seven months later. I almost died. I came really, REALLY close to dying . . . for reals . . .


I have always sort of thought that when it was 'my time' that I would have at least a moment, if not longer to sort of realize I was headed 'out' and to at least briefly look back over my life and see if I was going to be leaving behind any unfinished business . . . any loose strings that needed to be tied off . . . and some sort of split second awareness that 'okay . . . this is IT' . . .


Last summer there was NONE of that . . . and perhaps THAT is the most disconcerting part of it all . . .


But then again . . . I did survive . . . I did wake up . . . I AM still 'here' . . .


But even so . . . I still wonder about that . . .



And more often than I care to note, in the midst of playing with a grandchild . . . or cuddling and reading with one . . . or caught up in the absolute wonder and enjoyment of watching each one blossom and become who they are ultimately to be, I find myself catching my breath and the thought pops, unbidden, into my head "I would have missed this moment" . . . It happens with my precious grandchildren . . . with my beloved children . . . their spouses . . . friends . . . with my husband . . .


I guess what that all adds up to is that while I may still be coming to terms with the experience of last summer . . . I AM -- with all my heart -- VERY grateful to 'still BE here' . . .



VERY, very humbled and grateful . . .