Angels Watching Over Us

So, when the end is near, do you think your life flashes before you? What goes through your mind?

I never really thought about that question too much until last weekend when the end came perilously near. Rick and I were driving home from dinner with our friend Jan, who was in the front seat with Rick. We were headed home on a busy one way street, a Friday around 8:30. The road was busier than it sometimes is with cars in the lanes to our left, some to the right, when we saw a police car with its lights on, rushing down a perpindicular street just at the next light -- and going through the light.

The police car turned into our one-way street -- going against traffic. And then we saw it.

He was chasing another car, coming straight toward us in our lane, driving at an extreme rate of speed. The police car was in hot pursuit, again headed straight toward us.

We were within just a few feet of being slammed head-on when Rick swerved the car into the lane to our right. Fortunately, no one was there.

Without his quick reflexes I am confident that this would have been one of those blogs where people simply disappear and you always wonder. Are they ill? Are they traveling? Will they write here again? Did they just give up blogging?

Those of you who know me might send an email that would be unanswered. Others would simply give up.

I've thought a lot about that evening over the last few days. I think about it all the time. I've thought about how grateful I am for Rick's quick thinking, although I think it was more instinct than anything else. He learned, when racing bicycles on the velodrome, how to avoid collisions, as velodrome bikes don't have brakes. You swerve. Remember that one.

I've thought about how grateful I am there was no one in the lane into which we swerved. There was no time to look. That, too, could have been a crash and probably a debilitating one -- but not so fatal as the alternative.

I've thought about Lizzie, who would be expecting me home and no one realizing that she was there alone, hungry, wondering when her people would come feed her.

I've thought about being grateful that I had no unfinished business with people. No arguments outstanding. No bad will. And it reminded me that I should see more often the people I care about as our busy lives often fail to connect.

When I saw the headlight of the car coming toward us (one headlight was out) I was shocked but calm. No screaming. Until that very instant after when we were safe. And then I shook like a leaf.

All of us have had follow-up issues. We can't find anything about an arrest in the news, so what happened? This chase began in another county but why in the world would an urban chase involve the police chasing backwards on a busy one-way street? Is an arrest more important than the danger all the drivers in that area were faced with? For if that car had collided with us head-on, it wouldn't just be us that felt the aftermath. Without doubt cars would have careened into others and many people would have been hurt.

I truly believe that God, the universe -- call it what you will -- had more work for all three of us to do on this earth. What that work is, I don't know. Being kind? Helping others? Some great mission we've yet to discover?

I don't know. I probably never will. What I do know is that I will forever be grateful, thankful. I will value the life I live even more than I did before. I will continue to live each day in a way that if it was to be my last it would be the best it could be.

And yes, I've always believed in angels. And they were with us that night.

Angels We Have Heard on High

I can't help it. I have too many trees. I don't care!

The angel tree stays up all year in the guest room, where (when I can find the top of the bed) I sometimes go to meditate.

It's a peaceful place and it's filled with all that good angel energy!

I love the Margaret Furlong angels -- I have a few.

 

Wish I had a lot more!

This is one I made with my friend Richard eons ago. We had macaroni all over the place!

This, a gift from my friend Judy.

 

Not that there aren't angels on the other trees, but this one is just a little different.

 

There are those who might call some of these fairies.

 

I say it's more or less the same thing -- and it really doesn't matter.

 

I just love 'em!

Another Angel Gets His Wings

I think most of us have seen James Stewart's classic film "It's a Wonderful Life." Clarence, the "angel-in-training," shows George Bailey (Stewart) what would have happened to the people in his life if he didn't exist.

The thing is, George never thought of the things he did in his daily life as being anything special, as something that would change the lives of those around him.

Really, do any of us?

I'm sure you have all been in the situation when someone tells you -- perhaps years later -- that something you did really made a difference to them. It may have given them confidence when it was badly needed, or the courage to make a challenging decision. You may well have saved more than a life or two and not even know it.

I was thinking about this because I just finished a wonderful book -- I hope you'll click over to Chopsticks and String after reading this, because I share much more about it and it truly is a memorable book and one worth knowing about.

First-time author Jane Knuth from Portage, MI, recounts her experiences volunteering at a St. Vincent de Paul store in Kalamazoo. The book is funny, touching, beautiful, delightful and thought-provoking -- and if you read what I wrote on Chopsticks, perhaps you'll see why. (End plug -- but really, I hope you'll go over there and read that post! Now!)

When I donate things, I tend to do one of two drop-off options: the Goodwill store in Gaylord (because I figure otherwise they are just recycling the same clothes from the same small town) or the Lansing St. Vincent de Paul store.

A number of years ago, I had my trunk filled with clothing and thought I would stop by after my mammogram. But when I got in the car after the X-ray, my hand went into crippling pain and spasm. I could barely manage the steering wheel. I had no idea what I had done to "sprain" or hurt myself -- it was fine not long before.

Figuring it would go away, I made my stop at St. Vincent de Paul to drop my clothes.

A volunteer -- not unlike those Jane tells about in her book -- kindly helped me get the bags out of the car. As I thanked him I apologized for not being able to help and told him about my hand.

"My sister had something like that happen, and then she had a stroke," he said. "You really should have that checked out." (Angel encounter)

Scared me to death, but it gave me something to think about. I went through all the "stroke" exercises -- moving your tongue a certain way, saying the alphabet, smiling, touching finger to finger. I decided I probably wasn't having a stroke, but as long as I was concerned, and it was only four o'clock, I should cruise by my doc's office, just for sport.

I walked into the full waiting room and told the receptionist while I was there. She immediately put me in a room, where they took my blood pressure several times. It was outrageously high. Way outrageously high. I could tell they were scared; I wasn't sure why.

Well, several hours later and after the BP came down, I was sent home, on medication. I'm pleased to say I've been fine since.

The point is -- this guy, this volunteer at St. Vincent de Paul, whose name I don't even know, may have saved my life. Maybe that's an overstatement, but it could go either way.

And he doesn't know. I don't really now how to find him -- it was long ago. Yet now and then I think of him with such gratitude.

Rachel Naomi Remen, another author (and medical doctor) whose work is a great favorite of mine, is a dazzling speaker who when appearing at East Lansing shared a story of one of those miracle encounters. She said a few words to a woman -- a stranger, as I recall -- on the streets of New York City. Years later she met the woman again. The words Remen had said had given the woman the courage to leave an abusive relationship and set up a shelter, I believe.

Over on Chopsticks, you'll meet an angel and if you read her book, she'll tell you about others. And who knows -- it wouldn't surprise me at all if you might be one, too.

We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.
~Luciano de Crescenzo

Let Angels Sing!

Angels we have heard on high,

Sweetly singing o'er the plains.And the mountains in reply

Echoing their joyous strains!

Gloria!

In excelsis Deo!

May you have a lovely Christmas --

And if you do not celebrate Christmas, may your days be merry, bright and filled with angels, no matter what you celebrate!

Peace on Earth.

Images of carvings from The Whimsical Whittler.

Angels in Disguise

Following the shooting at Fort Hood, I heard a retired military officer -- it might have been Jack Jacobs -- tell a TV commentator, "In the end, it's the community that can tell quicker than anything that you need care."

He was referring to others noticing but not mentioning or urging more attention to the mental health of the shooter.

When I initially prepped this post a week ago, I said he could have just as easily been referring to me and to my recent pulmonary issues that have been worsening, acknowledging the community of my colleagues and Rick to urge more proactive care. The idea of the post was to tell you that I am slow checking blogs these days, but please keep coming back as I'll have some posts here and to be patient with me if I don't comment on every item of yours. (And fyi, the new meds are helping; not to worry for now.)

But that's small potatoes compared to what happened this weekend when Rick was in a bicycling accident. He'll be fine. And he's very lucky. More on that in a minute.

I have long felt that the visual image of angels is beautiful and we like to think of our guardian angels watching over us. But no one really sees diaphanous beauties in long white gowns with feather wings flying about us when we're having a bad time. If we believe in such things, and I do, angels are a matter of the heart. Faith.

But I also believe that angels walk the earth. We all can be angels, while at the same time we never know when the angels we need will come our way. To get a real-life human glimpse is a breathtaking, almost heart-stopping moment.

This weekend I met two of them. In bike clothes.

Some of you know Rick is a passionate cyclist. He used to be a racer and rides long rides and often. He's a good rider, a good handler. Sure, he's crashed and been hit like a lot of folks who have been riding for 40 years, and some of those have been hairy (both before and after I came in on the scene). He topped 6,100 miles this month and would be closer to 7,000 if we hadn't had rain most of October.

So, when we had one of those glorious, Indian Summer days -- a true rarity for a Michigan November -- you can bet he'd be out on his bike, savoring every second as we anticipate the long northern winter.

He had companions this day. One, Jef Mallett, you may know as the cartoonist who draws the comic strip "Frazz." The other, Jimi, is a detective with Michigan's State Police. Both are triathletes and both have had EMT training. You can read Jef's account of this at this blog.

The guys were cruising down a country road about 20 miles from Lansing. There was no traffic and apart from gravel edge, the road was pretty nice. Bopping along at a brisk 24.6 mph, they were having a great ride.

That is, until Rick hit a piece of petrified horse dung a little larger than a croquet ball. There was no "give" and after struggling, went down.

"In the end, it is the community that can tell quicker than anything that you need care."

About that community -- or, as I see them, angels -- Jef and Jimi kept him going when his breathing was failing -- he was "out" for a good five minutes and struggling. Jimi wrote later: "I have seen quite a bit of death as first responder to head on accidents and such in the UP. He fought hard to stay alive for those first 5 minutes. You are doing something right as he just didn't want to let go."

The paramedics, generally not close to this area, had been on training runs and responded immediately. He was taken to the hospital where a scan showed a small brain bleed in the head, a badly cut eye area (14 stitches) and lots of bruises. The bleed subsided by the next day and he's home with me now after a night in Neuro ICU and lots of outstanding nursing care. More angels.

Jef and Jimi both came to the hospital (they also rescued Rick's bike, which wasn't badly damaged and next to being alive and kicking, probably his greatest relief.) They filled me in on the details, which were scary to say the least. But they also said Rick did as fine a job of handling the bike under the situation as anyone could. And, that the passers by (including a doctor and someone who blocked the road with his car so no one would interfere) were a real testament to positive, non-gawking help. More angels.

Jef also brought his wife, Patty to the hospital, too. I have a photo of them so you can see a real-life angel in the flesh. I don't have one of Jimi, but believe me, he's a vision, too. And it was good to have hugs because I really needed them at that moment.

You see, we never know, do we, when someone will happen into our life to save it, to make a moment easier, to change our perspective -- something that makes a major difference to the rest of our life as we live it. (Below -- the good side; some photos are best not posted.)

We never know when or if we'll be that person who is the angel, either. Sometimes we don't even know after the fact. We just go on, do our best, try to say the right thing or be with someone at the right time.

Those angels help us find our inner angel. I believe we all have one.

I just want to thank all of you in the family or Facebook loop who have already responded, sent get well wishes, and shared your concern on behalf of both of us. Your thoughts, prayers and positive energy are great comfort to both of us. Keep 'em coming. The initial problems may be under control but the recovery isn't going to be fun.

Rick's exhausted (me, too) and sorer than anything. But he's the toughest guy I know and I suspect he will move heaven and earth to get in another ride (or more) before the snow settles in. (Just as long as I can keep the pet therapist from jumping on his sore spots!)

As regular readers know, this is my month to focus on gratitude in all my Marmelade Gypsy posts. I guess it would be redundant to say what all I'm grateful for in this one -- I think you already know. I'll visit you as I can.

On a related note, if you want to see a real-life angel in the flesh, those living in the Lansing area are invited to stop by Schuler Books and Music in Lansing (Eastwood) at 7 p.m. on Thursday, November 19. It's a book release party for Jef's most recent book, Trizophrenia! He says there will be great food, too! I know we'll move heaven and earth to be there, too!