Hugged by an Angel

While I promised to show you a sneak peek of a photo shoot I did for the April issue of Romantic Homes, I decided to post an event that I experienced that truly touched me on many levels. I promise design photos in my next post!


Last Tuesday, December 11th, was my 44th birthday - and it very well could have been my very last one at that. Having celebrated my birthday the prior evening, I was free to do some painting work for a client. I painted a couple of bathroom cabinets at my clients' home and took the drawers and doors of cabinets in my car to be painted in my workshop. It was getting late, but I wanted to get in a short run.


I was in West County (St. Louis proper) and unfamiliar with the location of the YMCA so I called my fiance, Randy, to get directions. Yes, you read correctly - I have a fiance and I was hoping to introduce him at another time and tell you how we met and so on, and I will, but just not in this posting. I was wearing my bluetooth and listening to Randy's directions and as he directed me, he told me to look for the bridge that goes over highway 40.

I then said, "Oh! I see the sign for 40 and the bridge...." and that was the last thing I said to him.

Out of no where, and I mean no where, a car slammed into me full force on the driver's side. No braking, no slowing down. I was so shocked because I had no warning. It was as if I was calmly walking down a sidewalk, looking straight ahead, and large football player came bolting out of an alley and slammed me to the ground. I never saw it coming.

I saw headlights, bright lights coming through my driver's side window. I spun, then flipped (twice I believe) and landed upside down, smashed against the guard rail and lamp post at the side of the overpass bridge. That is the short version of what happened in a nutshell.

Now let me tell what really happened:





Upon the first impact and seeing headlights coming right at my door, I immediately, without thinking, threw both of my hands up over my face and tucked in my elbows across my rib cage and curled up my knees to my stomach - sort of like a fetal position. I held that exact position for the entire ordeal. I was shocked first, then I realized I was rolling, and then I realized I was rolling towards the edge of the bridge and I let out a blood-curdling scream because in my heart, I knew I about be tossed over the bridge and fall to my death on the highway below.

And in that split second, time seemed to stop.

As I continued to roll, I screamed in my head, "I am going to die! I am going to die!" I believed that with all my heart, that I was truly going to die in that moment. The entire time, my eyes were shut and my hands firmly planted over my face, but I still saw a very bright, solid white light. And for just a millisecond I told myself, in a very calm voice this time, "I am going to roll over the bridge, and land on the ground and will be killed instantly, and it will be over. And that is okay." For just a fraction of second, I felt a very calming peace.

I was actually okay with it being my time.



And at the very moment I was "okay" with what was happening to me, the noise stopped, the rolling stopped, and I found myself hanging upside down by my seat belt. I immediately began to shake, cry, and started screaming, "Help me! Help me! Help me!" over and over again as I listened to glass clinking to the ground. I was convinced that I was on the edge of the bridge, ready to go over any moment. The real fact is that I was at the edge of the bridge, but "safely" smashed against a very strong guard rail.

Several people stopped to help and a man unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me out of the crushed window. I was shaking uncontrollably and tried to walk, I just wanted to get away from the car. The people helping me had me lie down and they started to cover me with their coats. Then I heard my phone ringing from my smashed car. I thought, Randy!

You can see in above photo how on the other side of the sidewalk, it drops down to the highway.

Randy, unfortunately, heard the entire crash over his cell phone while he was driving home from a business seminar. He said that one moment I was talking with him and the next moment he heard the whoosh noises and banging noises. It took him about five seconds to realize what was happening to me. He said heard me screaming, then crying and then very faintly calling for help over and over and over again.





He didn't want to hang up, but he did to call 911. This dispatcher told him that the accident had already been reported and asked him, "you mean the overturned car?" He couldn't believe what she said. He called his mother and raced to wreck site and all the while, he believed I was dying or already dead. He was about 5 miles away and even at 9PM, the traffic jammed the streets. He then finally approached the bridge only to see firetrucks, ambulances, police cars flashing all their lights. As he slowly approached the scene he saw a very smashed car, upside down and thought it was someone Else's. Then with a closer look, he realized it was my car. Police wouldn't let him see me as they worked on me and he just about lost it. Some bystanders were trying to convince him I was okay, but he didn't believe them. He finally got a chance to see me on the stretcher and saw that I was awake and not bleeding. His mother pulled up, sees all the commotion and her son leaning on a bystander, crying, and of course she thinks the worse as well.






As I am loaded into the ambulance people are wondering what happened because there were no other cars involved - or so they thought. I told a policeman that I was hit. I am 100% sure of that. I never lost control of the car, as in slipping on ice (there wasn't any ice anyway) and I was hit. It appeared to be a hit and run. However, a little later, Randy saw a woman at the end of the bridge being given a sobriety test, seemingly failed, and was handcuffed and taken away. Her car was way down the entrance ramp to the highway. At this time, we do have not any official report other than she did in fact hit me. We do not have any official report stating it was a DUI or that she left the scene.





I was taken to the emergency room and the EMTs and doctors could not believe that I had NO broken bones, NO cuts, NO internal bleeding, NO broken teeth, and not even a broken fingernail. I did however, have a huge, huge lump on the back of my head, mostly likely from a gallon paint can flying about and knocking me from the back. It was (and still is) so painful that they couldn't even put a neck brace on me because it barely touched that part of my head. They did a CAT scan and it was clear. I couldn't stop shaking and I never shook like that before. The doctor gave me a couple of pain pills to calm me and to help stop the shaking.


Now I ask you: by looking at these photos, how, how, how in the world did I literally walk away from it all? I will tell you how....I was hugged tightly by an angel. And I firmly believe that. Remember when I said that upon impact that without even thinking, I covered my face with both hands, tucked in my elbows and curled up my knees? And through the entire ordeal, my arms and hands remained in that very tight position, never budging once. Had my arms and legs thrashed about, they surely would have been broken or cut up. I believe my guardian angel is the one who held my hands, arms, and legs securely around my body. No one, and I mean no person could possibly have the strength to remain in that position during such a crushing slam, hard roll and slammed against the guard rail. But I did - with help from my angel.

After I was discharged from the hospital, about midnight, Randy took me to his home. We were pretty quiet on the way home and being in a car again made me very nervous. I had several cans of paint and stain in my car when it crashed, and a lot of it landed in my hair. Randy got black paint all over himself as he tried to retrieve my briefcase, lap top, files, papers, purse and so on out of my paint-filled car. Once home, he drew me a bath and as I sat in the hot water, hugging my knees and letting my tears fall freely, Randy very gently washed my hair, careful to avoid my bump, and slowly and carefully picked all the dried paint out of my hair. It was finally quiet...there was no screaming, no sirens, no flashing lights, no people, no doctors, no IV's, no CAT scans, no questions...just me, sitting in the tub, hugging my knees, silently crying, while my wonderful fiance gently washed my hair. I will tell you about this wonderful man in another, happier, post.

Once out of the tub, Randy got in it to soak as well. He didn't have the pleasure of silence that I had. He still heard the noise, my screaming and my cry for help playing over and over in his head. He choked up and just simply said, "I thought I lost you." My tears flowed as I got a wash cloth and gently washed the black paint off his head and neck and we just stayed quiet.

It was a miracle. Only hours before I was being tossed around in my car and lying in the street with broken glass all around me, and now, here I am, clean, in a fluffy robe, eating a bite or two of my birthday cake to settle my stomach for all the medicine I took. My head was (and is) very tender, my shoulders, neck, and back are tight, but I will be fine.

Yup, Happy Birthday. I would like to think that God isn't done with me yet and I have much more to do in this world and that is why I am still here. But there is a small part of me that thinks that in that very moment, when I thought I was going over the bridge, and I felt a second of calmness, that God might have changed His mind and realized that I am just too ornery for Him to handle at this time. He probably would have a handful of people who would agree with Him as well. :-)

Life is good, but living it is better.

Please be safe and live as if there is no tomorrow - because you know, there just might not be...and I personally know that it is all okay.

from my house to your house,
Elizabeth