A Pictures Worth a Thousands Words

Sometimes things or events happen in your life that are so dramatic or traumatic that they are forever etched in your memory. I have had a lot of those moments, being shot at, stabbed, even electrocuted. In each of those cases it was all the result of me and my foolishness that led to those events, so most times when I recall them, even though there was some pain involved, I can actually laugh when I think about how stupid I was back then. There is one event that has marked and shaped my life in such a way that I have yet to come to that point where I can laugh about it without wincing.

It happened in 1992, I was still in the military, stationed at the Presidio of San Francisco at the time. I was on my way home from work. For weeks I had been riding my bike to and from work. I was trying to get in shape for an upcoming physical fitness test. I was coming up for promotion and I wanted to do my best. I had also been working a lot of long hours and the week prior, I had promised my oldest daughter "Little" that I would take some time off and take her to the beach. On this particular day I had gotten off work early and was in a pretty good mood. I even decided to play it safe and ride on the sidewalk instead of the middle of the road as I usually did. It was a decision that I later regretted!

I pushed myself for the first few miles. I began to slow down as I was approaching a sharp turn. Just as I was about to take the corner, a car came speeding toward me! Before I could react the driver hit me, knocked me back and then ran over me leaving me for dead on the side of the road. It happened so fast and then the lights went out.

For a moment I thought I was at home, and that I had fallen asleep on the couch. (which I had been doing a lot since I was working double shifts and coming in from work so tired.) I kept telling myself I was supposed to take Little to the Beach and I really did not want to disappoint her. Not wanting to let my daughter or my wife down, I kept trying to wake myself up. I did not realize that I was fighting for my life.

I won't get into all of the gory details, but the impact left me with a broken arm, sprained wrists, multiple injuries to my back, and fractured my jaw in several places, as well as splitting my lower jaw clean in half down the middle. I also suffered severe head trauma. Long story short I was busted up pretty bad. My injuries were so severe that when I was finally wheeled into a room, my brother, who had been there waiting for me to arrive... got up and left when they wheeled me. I saw him leaving but my jaw had not yet been reattached, so I could not call out to him and I was in too much pain to gesture to him. After seeing me he thought that he was in the wrong room, I was unrecognizable.

The immediate report from the doctors was that I was lucky to be alive but I would never be 100% again. All I could do was cry. I can still remember the intense amount of pain I was in even with the pain killers they were giving me. Eventually they let my supervisor and co-workers in to see me before my wife and their reactions said it all. They couldn't even look at me and the ones that managed to look couldn't stop staring with this strange horrified look. After a few minutes with them I knew that it was hopeless. It probably would have been better if they had just walked away like my brother did, but in either case their reactions painted a pretty dim picture for me.

After my visit with them the last thing I wanted was for my wife to see me as I was...and when she did get to come in and see me all I could do was cry and try to apologize. My wife ignored my blubbering apologies, and then she did the most amazing and unexpected thing. She looked at me the way she always had and smiled at me and said three simple words. She said, "All is well."

She talked right over me an my mumbling apologies and acted as if there was nothing wrong with me. She smiled this smile at me that made me forget about everything that had just happened. The way she smiled at me and the way she looked at me without flinching or reacting actually caused me to see a different picture...she gave me hope and made me believe that everything was going to be okay.

You see my boss, coworkers, the doctors and even my own brother's initial reactions painted a picture for me and it wasn't all that nice. Each time I looked at that picture I felt more and more hopeless. My wife painted a better picture for me and her picture told me that all was well.

I won't lie to you and say that it was all good. It was a long hard road to recovery for me, and there were many times that I was tempted to revert back to that hopeless picture. However along the way I had hope and the strength and support of a good woman who continually painted a better picture for me. It was the better picture that helped get me back on my feet, and now all these years later I can look back at her and stare deeply into those pretty brown eyes, smile and say..."All is Well..."