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"We're definitely two individuals, but we are together at the same time. We are -- one." -- Ali, on Bono |
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"We're definitely two individuals, but we are together at the same time. We are -- one." -- Ali, on Bono |
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Like A Song: Falling At Your Feet
@U2,
May 24, 2008
[Ed. note: This is the twentith in a series of personal essays by the @U2 staff about songs and/or albums that have had great meaning or impact in our lives.]
 Good Friday, 2003. I woke up like I normally would and started my day with my usual pattern. At about 7:10 a.m., the phone rings. It's my cousin calling from New Hampshire. She's horrified that she's the one who has to break the news to me as no one else in my family realized that I wasn't called. "There's been a horrible accident. Your father was hit head-on at high-speed by a drunk driver. They don't know if he's going to make it. The drunk driver did not make it." My entire world changed in that instant. The numbness that flowed through my veins was overcome by my sudden realization that I have to drop everything and drive two hours to the hospital. I have to figure out what happened, what's happening, what has to happen, etc. While my head was trying to take over, my heart was breaking and bleeding - crying out "Lord, save him. Do whatever you need to do - keep him alive." Being an only child, I knew great responsibility was now falling on my shoulders. It was one of the fastest two-hour drives I ever took. Fortunately, my husband drove. I was constantly on my cell phone calling various family members, state police units, and my co-workers. I became amazingly efficient in taking the most horrifying life situation I found myself in and making it very black-and-white. Now was not the time to let my emotions get the best of me. Now was not the time to let my Dad down. I had packed as if I had to both plan a funeral and move into my Mom's for an extended period of time given that we didn't know if my Dad was going to make it. Through the chaos, I realized that I had packed a Christmas tie for my husband forgetting that the holiday was really Easter. I think I also packed two left shoes. "Every chip from every cup / Every promise given up / Every reason that's not enough / Is falling, falling at your feet." It's amazing how fast your mind can allow you to think. I was thinking back to my wedding, just nine months prior to that, and how my Dad danced with me, how proud he was, and all of the promise of the "future." I wasn't going to give up those promises - I wasn't going to allow this reason to be enough. Yet, I had no control. I could only step in and monitor the care he was being given in ICU, communicate with the family about his care, and sign the necessary paperwork to let the medical team do what they needed to. "Every one who needs a friend / Every life that has no end / Every knee not ready to bend / Is falling, falling at your feet / I've come crawling, falling at your feet." Given my faith, I knew that the only entity that was in control here was God. For the next two-and-a-half months, my Dad was in ICU recovering from a variety of injuries sustained. He turned into the six million dollar man as everything except for his left hand and arm had to be bolted together, fused together, rebuilt, or replaced. By God's mercy and grace, my Dad's face was relatively untouched. He only had some jaw damage. He did have to wear one of those metal halos while his neck fusion surgery was done and he healed from that. The tracheotomy only reminded me of my Dad's failed attempts to stop smoking. "His lungs would have been stronger had he quit all those years ago" kept going through my head. Irrational thoughts and the "what ifs" drove me crazy. There was a sense of wanting to do something for him, but feeling utterly helpless. I helped drain his tubes, got a nurse to come in when he needed tending to, read to him, brought in a CD player and played his favorite music, prayed over him, and tried to care for him in a way that you're never taught to. "All the manic days, faces that pull...All the X-rays not under your control...And the compromise you make for someone" My family's lives were indeed manic for the seven months or so that it took him to regain the strength, mobility, speech, and other skills that were stripped from him thanks to a drunk driver. You shouldn't have to see a parent have to learn to walk again, eat again, or even learn to speak again. But, through each of those manic days, there was a hidden blessing in it all. As hard as that was to realize, it brought me closer to my Dad, as well as my husband. We each were relying on each other in ways we never thought we would, and by working as a team, we were able to celebrate each small victory. "All the books you never read...just started...all the meals you rushed...and never tasted" Though this process, you can't help but see life differently. I learned to appreciate the simplicity of peace and the joy of taking a small step - literally. I realized that as horrible of a situation you've been placed in, you're never given anything that you can't handle. There was a purpose to what transpired, and as hard as it still is to revisit this time five years ago, I can see now that this was a milestone in making me who I am now. I think of all the things my Dad had to relearn: walking, eating, talking. He would joke about how he would love to enjoy the taste of a Burger King Whopper. Simple things that mean so much. "All the information...all the big ideas...all the radio waves...electronic seas...how to navigate...how to simply be...the truth knows when to wait...explained simplicity...In whom shall I trust...How might I be still...Teach me to surrender, not my will, thy will." That purpose was to teach me a valuable lesson in that you can't control or plan what happens. You can prepare as best as you can, but there are forces out there greater than yourself that can, and often will, impact your life at some point. I had to fall down at the feet of my Creator and plead for mercy. I knew that my Creator, my God, would be the only one who could bring me peace that passes understanding - that peace that could bring sense to such a senseless act. I also had to learn the powerful act of forgiveness. The drunk driver lost her life because of the stupid decision she made to get behind the wheel. If I'm to surrender to "thy will," then I needed to forgive her for the pain and suffering that decision caused my family. I am very fortunate. My Dad is still with me and is enjoying his time as a Grandpa. I am truly blessed. I know that only by my Creator's doing that we can still enjoy each other's company. That's why I will be forever "Falling At Your Feet." © @U2/Lawrence, 2008.
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