{"id":16314,"date":"2020-01-01T09:00:29","date_gmt":"2020-01-01T14:00:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sasee.wpenginepowered.com\/?p=16314"},"modified":"2024-03-26T15:08:45","modified_gmt":"2024-03-26T19:08:45","slug":"message-from-above","status":"publish","type":"essay","link":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/essay\/message-from-above\/","title":{"rendered":"Message from Above"},"content":{"rendered":"

The truck violently plowed into my car\u2019s left front end, broke my\u00a0axle, and bent the wheel under my car.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n

The image of my red car in motion flashed sporadically in my mind for two weeks, whether I was asleep or awake. I\u00a0didn\u2019t tell anybody about my premonition. Because details were unclear, I tried to forget about the vision. Sunday morning I drove us to breakfast, since Bill had a knee injury. I waited at the stop light for the green arrow to\u00a0make\u00a0a left turn. As I pulled slowly into the intersection, I heard approaching danger before I saw the older, full-size\u00a0pickup truck gunning toward the driver\u2019s side of my car. As the driver barreled at a high rate of speed, I felt terrified,\u00a0completely helpless, but surprisingly calm, as once again I experienced the red car image flash in my mind.<\/p>\n

\u201cBill, we\u2019re going to get hit,\u201d I said with little emotion. The truck violently plowed into my car\u2019s left front end, broke my\u00a0axle, and bent the wheel under my car. The impact spun the car two lanes over, oscillated us side to side, jarring our\u00a0bodies and brains. I struck my head, suffered severe pain, headache, and dizziness. Traumatized, holding my pounding\u00a0head, I was more concerned about my husband. His injured leg was wedged under the dash. We were both in shock and\u00a0unable to dial 911. Kind bystanders assisted us and called for emergency assistance. Reputable witnesses testified the\u00a0traffic light was in our favor.<\/p>\n

Instead of going to breakfast, we were transported to the hospital. We bypassed the crowded, antiseptic-smelling\u00a0emergency waiting area and were immediately taken to separate examination rooms.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease find out how my husband is. He\u2019s a big guy and may act like he\u2019s fine, but I know he\u2019s hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShhh! Don\u2019t worry about him, he\u2019s in good hands. Breathe slowly and deeply,\u201d the kind, young nurse said. \u201cYou\u2019re\u00a0setting off all your alarms.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dazed and confused, I looked up to see an overhead monitor broadcasting reruns of my late mother\u2019s favorite sitcom,\u00a0The\u00a0Golden Girls. As I lay on the exam bed waiting for a CT scan I prayed, \u201cPlease don\u2019t let me have a brain bleed or\u00a0concussion.\u201d<\/p>\n

The nurse entered swiftly and demanded to know who upset me. \u201cAre you listening to the police officers discussing your\u00a0accident?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I was praying. My car\u2019s a goner, and I\u2019m thankful I\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to find something else to focus on. Your blood pressure is elevated, and you\u2019re holding your breath. Breathe!\u201d<\/p>\n

I tried deep breathing, but I kept reliving the forceful impact of the collision. I could hear the gunning engine and the\u00a0grinding metal.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are going to have to calm down. Look up above you at the TV.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was amazed Mom\u2019s favorite old show was playing in my ER examination room on Sunday morning. I focused on the\u00a0antics of the four Golden Girls. Little Sophia, the feisty, outspoken grandma had always reminded our family of my late\u00a0mom, Virginia. They both had spunk.<\/p>\n

My adult son was first to arrive at the hospital. \u201cLook up there at our little Golden Girl,\u201d I told Jason, as I applied\u00a0pressure\u00a0to the goose egg rising above my temple. Estelle Getty, playing the character of Sophia, was scolding her\u00a0daughter. \u201cAw relax; you\u2019re going to be okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled at my son. \u201cThink that\u2019s a message from your Grandma?\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed and reminisced about how Mom and Sophia looked and acted so much alike.<\/p>\n

\u201cSon, if that guy had hit my car three feet back, I\u2019d be dead or critically injured.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sophia\u2019s voice snapped, \u201cRelax! It will all be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jason and I looked at one another and nodded. I felt a comforting presence come over me. \u201cI feel Mom with me. She\u2019s\u00a0my\u00a0guardian angel.\u201d<\/p>\n

When my daughter arrived, she said, \u201cAw, Mom, look up; there\u2019s Gram. It\u2019s little Sophia.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, honey. She\u2019s been talking to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tracey looked into my eyes; she probably thought I had brain damage. She tried to distract me. \u201cYou know Gram would sure love our babies,\u201d she said, referring to her daughter\u2019s three little boys under four years of age.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right; she would. Hand me my purse. I need my cell phone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, you can\u2019t call Gram.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d I pulled up my photos and scrolled through countless pictures of my sweet great grandsons\u2019 smiling faces.<\/p>\n

The nurse, who had been hustling in and out to remind me to relax and take deep breaths, peeked in with a confused\u00a0expression. \u201cWhat are you doing now?\u201d She raised her eyebrows, smiled, and gestured. \u201cWhatever you all are saying, or\u00a0she\u2019s doing, encourage your mom to keep doing it. Her stats are now within the normal range.\u201d<\/p>\n

My heart rate elevated again and set off bells and whistles when my husband came hobbling into my room assisted by his\u00a0daughter Robin. His leg was banged up, but he was not seriously injured. Bill reached to hug me. \u201cI\u2019m so grateful you\u2019re okay,\u201d we said in unison. Our tears flowed as we embraced, which brought our kids to tears.<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cWe\u2019ll be able to celebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary next week. My mom and Sophia were here with\u00a0me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Puzzled, Bill asked, \u201cYour mom? Who\u2019s Sophia?\u201d<\/p>\n

I pointed to the TV, and we smiled. Other than contusions, we did not sustain serious injuries.<\/p>\n

A few days later, someone asked if I was angry with the driver who had been driving under the influence of narcotics.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I replied remembering the life lessons my mom had taught me: Forgive even when you can\u2019t forget, and never hold\u00a0a grudge. \u201cThat guy and his female passenger are far worse off than we are. They have no insurance, no vehicle now, and\u00a0serious injuries from not wearing seat belts. I hope this was their wake-up call. All I can do is wish them well.\u201d<\/p>\n

The messages of forgiveness, Mom instilled, have lasted me a life time. I\u2019m convinced messages arrive in all forms \u201cfrom above,\u201d often disguised as coincidences.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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