Life's Mysteries
This post has both joy and sorrow in ample supply.
Yesterday the children and I were at our YMCA when the fire alarm went off. I was up running on the track, and the children were down playing games in the community room. Your mind tells you it is a drill or a mistake, but you still take it seriously.
The children were exiting the building with their teachers. I quickly found them, made sure they were together and had seen me, then sent them on outside while I ran to get our coats and my keys. We were going to sit in the car until the all-clear was given, then head back inside.
Then we saw the black smoke pouring from behind the building…and realized this wasn’t a drill.
A mom and kids parked next to us were also staring at the smoke. The eldest son was begging the mom not to run back inside, but she had left her keys and she had to go back. I said I would stay with them in case they needed anything. At this point, I’m starting to realize we don’t really know what is going on, but I want to get out of there if for no other reason than the fire trucks are going to be coming and they’ll need the space clear.
The other mom was back in a flash, and we headed out.
As we pulled over the bridge leading to the Y, Yessa looked back to let us all know she could see flames, not just smoke.
We were all shaken and hearts pounding, but made it home safely. The children asked me to please call Buds to have him come home soon, both so they could tell him of our adventure, and because they wanted us all to be home, together, safe.
The Y is still closed today, and we have learned that it was a small plane that crashed, killing a family of 4. God bless the pilot. It could have been so much worse. The pilot managed to avoid hitting the many houses that were flown over behind the Y, as well as crashing before hitting the side of the Y housing the pool, which was filled with kids for swim practice and playing.
Like so many moments in life, everything can change in a flash with a split-second decision.
And those split-second decisions can lead to amazing joy as well.
Twenty years ago today, February 4th, I went on a blind date with a man named Ben. Ben has faded with the passing of the decades, but another man I met that night so impressed me with his chocolate brown suit, his chocolate brown eyes that peered at me intently, and his ready smile, I asked him out on a date the next day, and we were engaged in a month.
Two decades…some sorrow, much more joy, and limitless laughter. I am who I am because of my life with this man. I could not ask for a better gift from the universe.
