It was midmorning. April, 1989. We were enjoying balmy spring day in Minnesota. I was inside, packing for a flight back to Arkansas.
What a delightful time we had had the past week reuniting with friends and family, while helping facilitate the FamilyLife Conference in Minneapolis.
What a joy it was to have our precious 14 month old son with us! Many were able to meet him for the first time. Grandma had made herself available to babysit in the hotel room while I assisted Tim in the FamilyLife bookstore.
After the conference, we headed north to Grandpa and Grandma’s for a short visit, before returning home. We had a wonderful time! But now the packing had to get done and the flight time was on our minds. “Don’t want to miss the fight, you know!”
Grandpa was prepping the car for the trip to the airport. It would take the same amount of time to drive to the airport as to fly from Minneapolis to Little Rock. “Good time for a quick nap,” thought Tim, from the left side of the back seat, after luggage, baby and wife were all settled in the car.
Baby was in his carseat, brought from Arkansas, knowing enough car travel would merit its lugging along. The car seat was located on the right backseat of Grandpa’s car. And I sat in the middle.
So Tim rested his head on the left windowed door for a quick shut eye. I was attending to my wriggling little one. “He will soon settle down for a nap too,” I hoped.
Twenty minutes down the road. Just south of town. “Ready for the longer treck to the Cities now.” Tim is sleeping. Grandma took her seat belt off, “just for a minute – I must take my coat off; car is toasty warm now.”
“Good for her,” I thought. “I don’t even have my seat belt on. Not while riding center in the back seat!” It was a nice car, though. Brand new. Plymouth, Acclaim. Factory ordered, 1989. Blue. Mom’s and my favorite color. So happy for them.
Then, life went into slow motion for me as I watched my dad grip the steering wheel with both hands, pushing the brake seemingly through the floor and warning us, “Hold on!”
And just like that, it was over. We were sitting askew in the center of the highway. All was quiet in the car. All except my baby. I looked toward him, my right. There was a bit of blood coming out of his mouth. I could see, because he was crying. He was otherwise safely snug in his car seat.
I looked to my left. Tim was awake from that shut eye. Blood was everywhere. His head had hit the clothes hanger hook, above the left window.
My attention then turned to my mom and dad. They were both conscious. My mom had a huge goose-egg right above her right eye, which was swelling fast. Dad laid calmly behind the steering wheel. “There goes your new car, Audrey,” was the next words from his mouth.
Friendly help gathered outside the demolished vehicle, hoping to stop oncoming traffic. We waited for police and ambulance assistance.
Grateful we were alive. Grateful for baby carseats. Grateful for protection – even though Tim and I were not wearing seatbelts. We were all transported to the local hospital, for emergency care.
~A Left Turn~
It was a driver making a left turn onto the highway, blinded by a truck making a right turn off the highway, at the same intersection. And we were right behind that truck…
My dad had seen it coming, and tried as best he could to stop our vehicle. Dad had been taken by boarded stretcher. After examination, we were informed that if going any faster than we were at 40 mph, he would be quadriplegic.
My mom, because she had removed her seatbelt, ‘for just a minute’ had crashed the windshield, making a mess of her head and the windshield! Tim had stitches where the hanger hook hooked his forehead. Our baby had only just bit his tongue and was romping around wondering, ‘what in the world happened to the rest of us!’
Surprisingly, I walked away fromy the totaled vehicle with a small gash on my left leg. After examination, I was prescribed crutches.
Needless to say, we did not make our flight home. After mending at Grandma and Grandpa’s for a few days, we finally flew home, successfully.
In another month, everyone had seemingly mended. Or so I thought. Unbeknownst to me, I had injured my back.
Add another 3 months, back surgery was scheduled and completed. Slowly but surely I resumed to my job as ‘mommy’and ‘wife.’
Very grateful for the ability to walk again.
After decades of years, I still cry out with a thankful heart for the same.
The following June,1990, Tim and I went shopping for his Father’s Day gift. A Lazyboy recliner! Only when we arrived at the store, he insisted I was the one to try out all the many options, to find the most suitable, for him.
‘For Tim, or for me?’ He insisted it was for him.
But I am the one using it. I have enjoyed his Lazyboy every day since the day of that purchase. It has been the most satisfying therapy for my back than anything else.
Still he never claims it as his…♡
Life is Lovelier with Lace…
Tim’s blue Lazyboy is my crochet office. It is in this chair where I have found opportunity to rest my back and to crochet. And my Crochet Counselor, namely ♡ Jesus,♡ meets with me regularly in this place, offering me comfort – body, soul and spirit.
Gratefully crocheting in Comfort,
The Ludvigson Lace Lady
LUDVIGSON LACE ♡ Aftcra
My Shop: http://www.aftcra.com/ludvigsonlace
My Website: http://ludvigsonlace.simdif.com
My Blog: https://ludvigsonlace.wordpress.com