love, personal
Published on December 4, 2021
Comments 34

A year has passed since I nearly died; this makes me both happy & sad

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Today, 12 months ago, I rolled my car right over on a wet road, and wrote about it here. Somehow, I came away with only concussion, whiplash, and a frozen shoulder (which is now thankfully almost fully ‘thawed’).

The ambulance workers couldn’t believe I wasn’t more badly injured; neither could the 2 doctors on duty, and the smash repairs guy who towed away my car looked at me incredulously:

“There’s not a straight panel on it! How are you not dead?”

Obviously, I’m so glad I’m not dead. As are my son, my beloved, and my family and friends.

It absolutely rocked my world, for in 37 years of driving, I’d never even had a car park prang. It shocked me to feel so vulnerable in my concussion and whiplash, then had to accept my shoulder was in fact ‘freezing’ in April [they are often triggered by a traumatic event, and occur more often in women over 50 FYI].

The shoulder was agony– if I knocked it, it felt like I’d been hit by lightning, and lasted for at least 20 secs, as I clutched my arm and staggered around trying not to faint. Have you ever had one? They are a little mysterious, and can spontaneously heal themselves, but also respond to daily physio exercises (about which I was diligent).

I’m a dancer, mover, gardener, Pilates teacher, blogger, cook … for all of which I NEED TWO ARMS.

It’s been a tough 6 months, feeling so limited, frail, and [quite frankly], OLD.

Yet also the bittersweet delight at not being dead saturating every day since Dec 3 2020.

This year has been such a gift: my son moved back home after 2 years of independence, and we live together now better than ever.

My love with V has blossomed, even while I’ve had to struggle with asking for help/not carry heavy things/only being able to sleep or hug on one side of my body.

But this year has been terribly sad too: my beloved Uncle died in May, my Mum in Wales in July, and my poor son’s other grandmother a month after that.

The world has continued to struggle with inequality, COVID, climate change, and of course the damn patriarchy.

Yet spring flowers are blooming, critters are making baby critters, and all around my home the rainforest is verdant and thriving.

I’m utterly grateful and happy to be alive– to have had another 12 months of life with my son, and more unfolding intimacy with V. To have eaten fresh cherry tomatoes with homemade pesto, or that orange almond cake we love. To have made a zesty tofu laksa, or rich vegetarian nachos to share for dinner, with books read/films watched/spoons carved/bushwalks done too.

But I’m sad because I don’t know if I’ve got another year? People around us all have been diagnosed with cancer, and died within 6 months. People have killed themselves, or had breakdowns, or died by misadventure. A house fire at my neighbour’s place recently killed twin girls who were only 4; their parents lives forever ruined by this tragedy.

My gratitude and appreciation for life has been amplified since the car crash, which of course has tripled my attachment to it, and thus my fear of losing it.

How do you balance the pleasure of being alive, yet every day moving closer to being dead?

I’ve got to lighten up don’t I? Or I will be winning that Miserable Blogger award 🙂

Today I’ve remembered being between the two worlds though– tumbled upside down on a wet road, hearing the screech of metal on tar, bracing for impact. I’ve remembered the eternal split second of waiting for blood to rush down my face, bringing agony or death.

But that didn’t happen, and I jumped out of the window like a barefoot ninja.

Live well my friends. Love, eat, create, share, support, and thank.

There’s no guarantees, and we each have a massive clock ticking above our heads…

In complete gratitude for seatbelts and each new dawn, G xO

34 Comments

  1. Infinite Living says

    Complete gratitude for each new dawn – that is the gift of a reminder you bring. Life is so fluid and so uncertain, and magical in ways we are here to acknowledge. I am glad and grateful for all that is well for you.

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  2. Joanna says

    What a Year it has been, am very grateful that we’re greeting be a new dawn, today. Many people never contemplate their own death or even the notion of dying, which fascinates me. I’m acutely aware of it everyday. It’s a powerful path to gratitude. Love your contemplations and observations xxx

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  3. Bitchy After 60 says

    Fill your days doing things you love with the people you love. When your days are full, you are too busy to think about the alternative. At least that’s what I try to do. Sounds like you were very lucky.

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  6. gigglingfattie says

    Oh G, I am so happy that you survived it too and that you got to experience your son returning home and your relationship with V. All the hugs to help you deal with sadness side of it all as well. And all my hopes for a blessed and full next year xoxoxo

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  9. Ann Coleman says

    I think the older we get, the more we realize that our time on this earth really is limited. That can be a hard concept to accept, but once we do, I think we are also so much more grateful for the good things in our lives. You were so lucky not to be more seriously injured in that crash, and yet I know you are still feeling the aftereffects of it. Thanks for this poignant post, it’s a reminder to all of us to live as fully as we can, why we can!

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  11. acflory says

    A year already. -shakes head- Concussion and frozen shoulder aren’t fun. Neither is coming face to face with your own mortality but…it does focus the mind on /living/. All too often we drift through this one, precious life we’re given, wasting most of it. Knowing with absolute certainty that death is real, and that it can and will happen to /us/ can make us appreciate each day we are given.
    You’re doing that, and you’re being your best self. That example will stand your son in good stead because living and simply being alive are not the same thing. Not the same thing at all. -hugs-

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  12. candidkay says

    Hello, you grateful barefoot Ninja you:). We’re grateful you’re still here and writing! I will continue to send prayers and good energy for continued healing and strength. You have been amazing through this . . .

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  13. Still a Runner says

    You are handling this well. From a very different type of personal health experience that took me by surprise, on some level it took my mind a long time to grasp how gravely close I came to a sudden end. it is then the reverberations of the experience begin.

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  14. Midlife Dating Adventures says

    As others have said, life is precious and you list its precarious nature in the string of losses around you. We all want to appreciate every day we have, but that can be exhausting and I think it’s human nature to become immersed in this experience we call life on earth. I have a very different point of view these days after my own terrible loss. I try to see and feel the special things around me in nature and in life that make this experience worthwhile, especially relationships with other people, for love is what we’re here for. Amen.

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    • bone&silver says

      Love love love indeed 🙏🏼
      Thinking of you, hoping this new year is kind to you and yours 🙏🏼
      You are wise and kind, thank you for your presence here 🙏🏼❤️

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  15. janieleeds says

    Oh G, sending you big heartfelt loving hugs first and foremost. So much loss and I understand how you’re feeling. But I am so grateful you are here as well to continue to enjoy every precious moment this life has to offer. I find it’s the little moments that entice me and I wiggle in delight with each awareness I have that I can remember each one like a pearl, building a life that I hope will make a full necklace of those moments. A legacy.
    I think as we get older, me included, I find that I think more often about the limited time we have here on earth and sometimes not knowing when makes me a little bolder, and at others, it makes me seek safety, especially with all the pandemic mess that we’re experiencing. I don’t know the answer except to say:
    I’m soooo glad you’re still here my friend. xo

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    • bone&silver says

      Thank you Janie- it’s certainly been an unexpected year for me, & for all of us! I sure hope 2022 is kinder & calmer on everyone, & yes, I’m pretty committed to making magical yet ordinary moments every day… 🙏🏼
      Thank you as ever for reading & commenting xx

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