The Night Time Won't Let Me Forget

"Hold them close, tell them you love them. Every. Single. Day."

This is a re-posting from a many years ago.

The old saying is sometimes we can get someone’s attention by hitting them with a velvet brick. At other times, the velvet must be taken off the brick. My feeling is that as we go though life, we get many messages from God. Most are “velvet brick” messages. Once in a while the Almighty takes the velvet off and lets us have it. These are faith cornerstone events. In other words, they affect your life so it will never be the same again.

In the summer of 1999, I had just left the aerospace/defense industry after almost twenty-five years. I had already retired from the Navy, so I thought this was a good point to recharge my batteries prior to starting the next chapter in my life. I was excited as we had just had a garage partly built in our back yard and I was going to finish it. I had some money to work with, but most importantly for the first time in a quarter century, I had nothing but time.

While I was in the midst of finishing the garage, I received a call from my old friend Kenny. He and his wife had just bought some land on a lake in Northern Minnesota and were building a lake home. Kenny had asked if I would be willing to come up for an extended weekend, strap on a tool belt, and put in some labor.

I jumped at the opportunity. I could do most of my passions at the same time. Bond with an old friend, be on a lake in Northern Minnesota, and do some carpentry work to boot. The weekend came, Kenny picked me up and we traveled up to his lot. The weather was beautiful and I truly thought that life could not get any better.

As an aside, I should confess that I am a world class worry wart.  While I don’t worry about a wide variety of things – I do worry mostly about my kids. My oldest daughter, Amanda was a camp counselor at a YMCA camp just north of Minneapolis for the summer. I knew most of the kids that she worked with and although they were not perfect, they were good and responsible kids. That being said, when Amanda was up at this YMCA camp working with these responsible kids, I could keep my worry stone in the drawer.

Back to the lake. On the way up to his lot on that August weekend, Kenny promised me that he would work me hard (true) and the sleeping conditions would be okay (not true). I am not saying that Kenny told me an untruth – I think we had a definitional problem. Sleeping conditions being okay meant that we were in an old, small tent with a rip in the netting so the bugs could get in. In addition, instead of sleeping bags, we were on old reclining lawn chairs (mine was broken). Hard work during the day, and lousy sleep at night. This made for a very tired me by the time we left on Sunday afternoon.

Sunday night, after Kenny had dropped me off at home, I could hardly stay awake during dinner. After we ate, I went downstairs to lie on a comfortable sofa and watch some television. It did not take long for the lack of sleep over the weekend to catch up and soon I was sound asleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night the phone rang. I was still asleep on the sofa so both my wife Susan and I picked up the phone at the same time. It was North Memorial Hospital. Amanda had been in a very serious car accident and we were asked to come right away. Trying to brush the cobwebs out of my half asleep brain, I thought this was not possible - it had to be a wrong number of some sort. Amanda was up at a YMCA camp working with a bunch of responsible young adults. Unfortunatly, this was no mistake, no wrong number. Amanda was hurt and we needed to get to the hospital, and fast.

Being very new to this type of crisis, I was very naive. When I kept asking how she was, the nurse on the phone would not tell me. Susan knew that was not a good sign. We threw some clothes on and drove as fast as we legally could to the hospital. The entire way there, Susan and I did not say a word each other. We both were consumed by our thoughts and more importantly, our deepest fears.

When we got to the hospital, we hurried from the parking lot into admitting. I was moving as fast as I could, but as in a dream, my legs felt like lead. Everything from the time the phone rang to entering the hospital was surreal - this has to be a dream, a bad, bad dream. Once inside we were met by the  hospital chaplin. Now I am not a fainter, but when he came up to greet us, I became light headed and my knees got weak. "Whose parents are you?" he asked. One of us, I can't really remember said "Amanda". With what seemed like an eternity he said "She is hurt bad, but is expected to recover. Would you like to see her?"

The thought she was hurt escaped me - all I knew was she was alive! We walked into the ER and there she was - she looked like hell, covered with blood, scraps and bruises, but alive. All she could say to us was "I am so sorry, I am so sorry" and then cried. The reason she kept saying "I'm sorry" was she was not wearing her seat belt. As much as I preached and preached to her about the critical need for seat belts from the time she received her driving permit, she was not belted in that night.

The accident happened as most do - a combination of unfortunate events. Lloyd, whose family owned the car, took 4 other young counselors from camp to an event in Minneapolis. After it was over, they headed back to camp, which was located near Independence, Minnesota.

A decision was made that one of the younger girls (who only had a driving permit) would drive. Lloyd and Amanda were in the back seat, goofing around. When the car was merging onto the interstate, the young lady driving over corrected and hit the retaining wall. The car flipped and Amanda and Lloyd were thrown from the car onto the cement highway. Amanda landed on her hip and broke her pelvis; Lloyd landed on his head and was declared brain dead. The reason why the chaplain was asking whose parents we were, was he was waiting for Lloyd's parents. 

Amanda was still in the hospital when Lloyd's funeral took place. I was at his funeral. Lloyd graduated from Hopkins and did very well (actually excelled) in sport and academics. His letter jacket which was draped over the casket, was full of awards and patches. Lloyd was an only child, and the absolute pride of his parents.

His family was not in the faith, so the funeral took place in his old high school gym instead of a church. It was very, very sad. As bad as I felt for Lloyd's parents, I could not help thinking during the service that this could have been our family instead. When the car flipped over and Amanda and Lloyd were ejected, besides Lloyd dying, both Amanda and Lloyd could have died. Or, Amanda could have died, or neither. There was no rhyme nor reason for the outcome - other than "there by the grace of God, go I..."

A year past, Amanda healed and continued on with high school. There was a service project at camp that was dedicated to Lloyd's life. The families of the kids involved in the accident gathered for the event. Lloyd's parents also came, and that was the last time we saw them. They never recovered from this unimaginable loss. Lloyd's mother died a few years later after Lloyd - most likely from a broken heart.

Amanda graduated from high school, went to college and graduated with a double major. She continued to ask why she was spared and Lloyd was not. None of us knew the answer then, nor know it now. We do know this - Amanda was spared for a reason.

I told this story at her wedding almost eight years ago. That night, that horrible night many years ago ago, we came face to face with our worst fears. And then, we learned lessons we will never forget. The naked fear I experienced that night stays with me to this day. It truly was the night that time will not let me forget.

Amanda is now coming up on her 36th birthday. She is now getting ready to have her second child - a girl. And Cash Robert, her first who just turned two, is a constant source of joy for this family.

There is not a day that has gone by since the accident that I take a moment with her for granted. Life is precious, life is fragile, life can turn on a dime. We found that out that horrible night. But life will go on. It will be up to Cash and our daughter yet unnamed.

We are all here for a reason. And that reason is for us to discover, explore and unleash. That is the lesson of the night time won't let me forget.