Profound Effect
Dwayne the Canoe Guy posted the assignment for this week on Monday, so I've had plenty of time to consider my answer. The assignment is as follows:
"Recall a time when the action/inaction of yourself or others has led, through a series of events, into having a profound effect on your life or others."
My story is a painful story, so if you're not in the right frame of mind, just flip over to another blog right now.
It was Mothers Day 1998 and I was pregnant with Colin. I had invited my mother for a shrimp lunch (our favorite). It was a beautiful spring day. James talked to his father early in the morning and learned he and his mom were going to visit James' grandmother (Wayne's mother) in Chickasha, which is only 30 minutes away. We had been considering traveling to Enid for mothers day, but James decided to meet them in Chickasha while I had lunch with my mom.
Wayne and Yoshi didn't visit Chickasha very often, and Wayne's mother had been complaining about that. Yoshi was afraid of long car rides and Wayne just liked to stay home. Something in their personalities just kept them at home. It wasn't anything personal against anyone else, they just liked to stay home. But they decided to go that day.
James met them at his grandmother's house and gave his mom a gift: a clock she had made years ago, which he had had cleaned and repaired. They chatted for a few minutes and then Yoshi and his grandmother announced they were going to pick up some sandwiches they had ordered.
As I sat eating shrimp with my mom, the phone rang. I didn't want to answer because my dad had just moved to town and was calling me all the time, but I answered any way. It was James and he was frantic. He said, "My grandmother hit my mom with the car and she's on her way to the hospital!" Not comprehending that it was anything severe, I asked, "Is she okay?" He replied, "Well, she's probably going to die."
I couldn't believe it. It was just such a normal, pleasant day. How could it be true? We waited by the phone for an update, and James called back to say she had been medi-flighted to Oklahoma City. It truly was serious.
Yoshi survived until Thursday of that week, but she never regained consciousness. James' grandmother never quite regained sanity. I don't know that any of us fully recovered. It was a dark, dark hour.
There were many cause-and-effect moments that week. James is glad he saw his mom that day. I wish I had gone with him because I would have gone with "the girls" to pick up the sandwiches and the accident probably would not have happened. A woman who saw the accident called us later that week and told us she had seen Yoshi and noticed how attentive and sweet she was to James' grandmother and that the accident had profoundly affected her. She even sent flowers to the funeral. The people that cared for us and prayed with us that week changed the way we react to others' tragedies. And, of course, one little mistake has deprived our children of knowing their grandmother.
Mothers Day will never be the same.
Dwayne the Canoe Guy posted the assignment for this week on Monday, so I've had plenty of time to consider my answer. The assignment is as follows:
"Recall a time when the action/inaction of yourself or others has led, through a series of events, into having a profound effect on your life or others."
My story is a painful story, so if you're not in the right frame of mind, just flip over to another blog right now.
It was Mothers Day 1998 and I was pregnant with Colin. I had invited my mother for a shrimp lunch (our favorite). It was a beautiful spring day. James talked to his father early in the morning and learned he and his mom were going to visit James' grandmother (Wayne's mother) in Chickasha, which is only 30 minutes away. We had been considering traveling to Enid for mothers day, but James decided to meet them in Chickasha while I had lunch with my mom.
Wayne and Yoshi didn't visit Chickasha very often, and Wayne's mother had been complaining about that. Yoshi was afraid of long car rides and Wayne just liked to stay home. Something in their personalities just kept them at home. It wasn't anything personal against anyone else, they just liked to stay home. But they decided to go that day.
James met them at his grandmother's house and gave his mom a gift: a clock she had made years ago, which he had had cleaned and repaired. They chatted for a few minutes and then Yoshi and his grandmother announced they were going to pick up some sandwiches they had ordered.
As I sat eating shrimp with my mom, the phone rang. I didn't want to answer because my dad had just moved to town and was calling me all the time, but I answered any way. It was James and he was frantic. He said, "My grandmother hit my mom with the car and she's on her way to the hospital!" Not comprehending that it was anything severe, I asked, "Is she okay?" He replied, "Well, she's probably going to die."
I couldn't believe it. It was just such a normal, pleasant day. How could it be true? We waited by the phone for an update, and James called back to say she had been medi-flighted to Oklahoma City. It truly was serious.
Yoshi survived until Thursday of that week, but she never regained consciousness. James' grandmother never quite regained sanity. I don't know that any of us fully recovered. It was a dark, dark hour.
There were many cause-and-effect moments that week. James is glad he saw his mom that day. I wish I had gone with him because I would have gone with "the girls" to pick up the sandwiches and the accident probably would not have happened. A woman who saw the accident called us later that week and told us she had seen Yoshi and noticed how attentive and sweet she was to James' grandmother and that the accident had profoundly affected her. She even sent flowers to the funeral. The people that cared for us and prayed with us that week changed the way we react to others' tragedies. And, of course, one little mistake has deprived our children of knowing their grandmother.
Mothers Day will never be the same.
posted by Jan at 1:01 PM
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