Miracles are a crazy thing that affects many people everyday. Escaping death, winning the lottery, or having a love one beat cancer is some examples that people would consider a miracle. You don’t have to believe in God or follow whatever religion you’re practicing to the T. Some people, including myself, believe miracles are blessings or rewards from guardian angels from heaven. You’re guardian angel can be a loved one or someone that you have never met or knew before. One sunny day back in 2001 I was a victim of a horrific head on collision crash. I drove my grandpa’s 88’ Chevy Silverado truck and was struck by a guy driving a bigger truck. That day my guardian angel, my grandfather, knocked me out to save my life, to see me succeed and grow up.
I was the apple of my grandpa’s eye when he was alive, or at least that is what he told me every time he saw me. My grandpa and I had a very close and special relationship; he would always hold me when I was a baby and not give me up to anyone, he was my hero. He would take me everywhere in his Chevy truck and buy me everything. He was diagnosed with lung cancer at the age of 66, and had three months to live. Since I was so little, six years old, my mom explained to me that grandpa was moving away and was never coming back and I would see him later when I was older. I cried for weeks and weeks, I didn’t want grandpa to move away, was he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? The worst thing about it all was the fact my mom was keeping the idea of my grandpa dying from me. During his final weeks of life, he was becoming sicklier every day. My mom described to me when I was old enough to understand what cancer did to a person, what my grandpa looked like before he died. He was deathly skinny and looked like a monster out of a scary movie. During the three weeks my grandpa was in the hospital, I was nowhere to be found because my mom didn’t want me to see him like that. I asked my mother every day when I was going to go see him and that I needed to go with him to Hardees, which was his and my favorite restaurant. My mother would keep telling me, “We’ll go see him soon, I promise.”
The last night my grandpa was alive, my mom decided to bring me to him. I was so excited but confused on why was he not at home with grandma and why he was at another home (the hospital), but I didn’t care I was going to see grandpa. My mother told me years later what happened when I walked into that room and saw him. She said I was so frighten and tried to run out hoping the “monster” wouldn’t get me. My mom grabbed me and explained to me it was him but I knew she was lying. Sadly to say, it was my grandpa and I sure wish to this day I would have believed my mom. My mom picked me up and tried to hand me to him for him to hold me to say our good-byes, but I didn’t want anything to do with him. I kicked and screamed until my grandpa handed me to my mother for protection. My grandpa was not mad at me since I was only six years old, but he was deeply hurt to see his apple, whom barely recognized him, fade from his sight.
Nobody ever believes that a beat up old 88’ Chevy Silverado with no airbags could possible cradle a life after a high speed head on collision and I also don’t believe it either. I was pinned in the destroyed truck with the steering wheel crushing my chest and the dashboard down to my knees. The emergency break and pedals were up to my knees compressing against my shin bone leaving a nasty abrasion. The truck looked like a construction cone, smashed up to a point, found on the side of the road. I do not remember anything immediately after the ambulance ride to the hospital where many doctors waited and hoped that I didn’t break my neck and back. My mother and brother were placed in a tiny room with a Chaplin and a social worker, which they were telling them I might die. I woke up in bright colorful room at Blank Children’s Hospital with my mother by my side. I remember I couldn’t move because I had a massive, uncomfortable neck brace on which was limiting my movement and I felt like someone hit me with a baseball bat all over my body. My mother was so glad to see me open my eyes. I smiled at my mother and I asked her if the doctors found anything terribly wrong with me. Did I break my back or neck? Can I even move? Many questions came spilling out of my mouth at once since I was so confused and shook up. My mother told me with a smile on her face that I experienced a mild concussion and that was the worst of it. She told me I could go home the next day. The doctors told me they had never witnessed anything like that, the way I came out of such a devastating head on collision with no broken bones or anything seriously wrong with me. They told me the only way I survived my crash was that I had gotten knocked out at first and just went along with the truck’s destructive path.
I work at a hospital and talk to sufferers of car accidents all the time. I transported this lady whom had broken her back in three different places from her wreck. She was rear ended and the person who rear ended her only hit her going 20 mph. Following my collision, the only thing that affects me to this day is back and neck pain which only becomes bad when I strain them and I was hit at 55 mph. That day back in 2001, I was supposed to drive that old beat up truck and get involved in that death defining crash. My grandfather wanted to let me know I was still special to him. People ask me all the time, “How did you survive such a horrendous crash?” I merely explain to people that my grandpa is my guardian angel and he wanted to let me know he was still there watching me grow up from a little tiny girl to a responsible woman. He wanted to let me know that I was still the apple of his eye and that he was not mad at me. My grandpa saved my life and I thank him every day through prayer when I wake up and realize I’m still alive. My hero, my best friend, my grandfather, still walks with me to this day and he will never leave my side for as long as I live. I believe that my grandpa knocked me out.
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