What Does It All Mean Anyway?
They say that a near death experience brings an enlightenment of some kind to one’s encounter with such an event. It is even believed that people see some sort of bright light or heavenly being during this moment. As for me, the only bright light I witnessed didn’t come from Heaven and it wasn’t gloriously white. They were red and blue. The lights I saw came from our local sheriff’s department and they were very bright indeed.
It was just like every other morning back in the summer of 2005. The weather was extremely hot and I was running late for work, again. This had become a typical pattern for me in the months preceding that day. In fact, this was the hardest time of my life, what I refer to as the beginning of my darkest hour.
Going through a divorce can really take its toll on a person. I couldn’t believe that my life could have gone so wrong; this wasn’t how I had planned it. One day I was living the dream, happy and in love, then without warning I was living in the eye of a hurricane named Chaos.
Thank God I had my job to turn to. The real dilemma at the time was my other outlet for pain, my addiction. Since the separation I had become extremely dependent on methamphetamines as a crutch to cope with what my life had become. As I was saying, that dreadful morning was just like any other, except for the fact that I was missing one thing, my fix. I remember being so late, but yet searching frantically for something to curb my urges. I called every one I could think of to get what I needed. Come to think of it, this was an odd day. I never ran out, I was always prepared. But looking back, it was destiny in the works. My best friend Mario wasn’t able to help me, but assured me that he would work on it and call me when
something came up.
There was no other choice: I had to suck it up make the long drive to work.
I worked out in
Simi Valley as a pest control technician, my hours were flexible and my customers loved me, so I was still okay.
I was only two hours late, nobody would notice, especially not my boss.
I remember that drive being the longest drive ever. The heat outside was at an all time high, no one was going fast enough, and I kept wanting to fall asleep. My body would not cooperate with me whatsoever. Sleep was all I could think about. By this time the withdrawal was taking over, but I had to push myself. I couldn’t lose my job over this and especially not now in life. Working was the only thing that kept me connected to the normal world.
As I arrived in
Simi Valley, I began my usual round of service calls.
It seemed as though there were more than usual, and the strength I had wouldn’t suffice.
Just then, I remembered that I had a friend who lived nearby who might be able to help me.
So I decided to take a detour
and explore that option.
To my surprise, he was able to supply me with what I needed to continue on that afternoon.
Finally relief flooded my bloodstream, almost likened to when Popeye the Sailor man ate his spinach. New found strength came over me and I was able to crank out the rest of that afternoon’s service calls. It was a good thing because it was getting later in the afternoon and I had an important meeting at 4:30pm that I could not miss. I had already been late several times to these weekly meetings; I knew my boss and my co-workers were beginning to suspect something was extremely wrong.
My drive home that afternoon was like so many others I had been making lately; I was in a hurry while trying to stay awake. You see, I had no problem staying alert when I was out on the job. I had to keep moving from one house to another and each stop was usually within a couple mile radius from each other. There was really no time for my body to relax or for my mind to wander. Driving home, however, was an entirely different story. It never failed, the moment I began my trek home, I would become overwhelmed with exhaustion. I’m not sure if it was because I finally stopped moving, or my body just couldn’t take it anymore. Either way, the result would always be the same, dozing while at the wheel.
I’m sure everyone has been in a similar situation one time or another where they were extremely tired while driving. I know my grandma always told me that when she would get tired while driving, she would just pull over to the side of the road and rest her eyes for just a little while. Unfortunately for me, time was not something I had to spare.
I can recall this as if it were yesterday; I had been on the drive home no more than ten minutes when I began to drift. Driving down Madera Road I could feel my eyes start to sting, and then no sooner than I felt that gloomy feeling did I see that familiar sight - darkness. My eyes were finally in control, and my body cooperated. Deep in the back of my mind I could hear myself frantically convincing myself to stay awake. It started with the usual, “You can do this Adam. You did it yesterday, you can do it again.” And there was a lot of truth to it, I had done this before. I had always dozed off while driving. Normally I could shake my head, roll down the window, or turn up the music and that would bring me out of my slumber. But this was not a normal day, and I had never dealt with such an overpowering feeling of helplessness.
Reality began to hit me when I felt the vibration from my tires. I was going over the little bumps that are used to divide the lanes in the road. I had done that before too. But this darkness was closing in on me at a surprisingly fast pace. My eyes opened for a split second, just long enough to steer my truck into my lane. It seemed as though the drowsiness couldn’t be beat, just then I hear a horn blaring out at me. This time I had gone over the little bumps in the road and had not even noticed. I knew then and there, I was in trouble. Not only was I fearful of hurting myself and someone else, but also that I was in a company work truck. There was a “1-800-How’s-my-driving?” bumper sticker on my truck. This meant that I could be traced to driving erratically. As these conflicting emotions ran wild in my mind, all I could do was fight to stay awake. Suddenly I felt it. I felt an unfamiliar bump in the road; an eerie feeling went through me all the way to my core. It unnerved me so badly that my eyes shot open like a wild man only to see a horrific series of events that will have forever changed me.
The unfamiliar bump turned out to be a curb. I had failed to make that wind in the road and kept moving in a straight line. That slight turn I make everyday, I should have known it was there. But I didn’t. How could I have missed it? I had been completely asleep.
The bump was just the beginning. After having popped the curb, I was heading dead on for a tree. This tree was no sapling either. It was a sturdy sycamore type no less than 40 years of age. I remember seeing no way to avoid hitting it, and then WHAM! The lowest branch had smashed the entire top half of my truck’s cab. Now I couldn’t see very well out my windshield or my side window because they had both been shattered. But the one thing I did notice is that I hadn’t slowed down one bit. Everything seemed to be spinning out of control around me. As I tried to gain balance in these two seconds I saw the most horrific sight I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure if I tried using the brakes, but I was continuing at an alarming speed into the opposing side of traffic. I was frantic in that millisecond. And there it was, my date with destiny: a king sized navy blue Ford F-150. I was barreling over the median like a freight train and I was heading for a head on collision. I still remember seeing the driver. He was an overweight man in a red shirt wearing sunglasses. Of all the thoughts that could have been running through my head at that moment, only one rang loud and clear, “this can’t be happening to me.” And then there was silence. Just like the calm before the storm. Instantly I made contact with the front left of his truck, followed by a great crashing sound. Before I knew it, I was jolted back and forth in my seatbelt, much like a rollercoaster at theme park. Except this was no ride and this was no fun. My cell phone seemed to be floating to the ceiling, “How is that possible?” I
thought to myself. I knew this answer, I was rolling! With each flip of my truck, the cab was getting smaller and smaller. I was being crushed alive. When would this end? Was I dying? So many thoughts bombarding me all at once. What was that God awful smell? A putrid smell, like sulfur, was about to make me vomit. Where was it coming from anyways? After what seemed like forever, it ended; silence again.
When the rolling had ended, I landed right side up. I looked out the window to see dust, my windshield, the cab in my truck and everything was destroyed. Immediately I looked down to see if I was in tact, and I was, thank God. I moved my arms, they were both working. So far I was doing okay. Finally I moved my legs, and I felt utter relief. I was alive! I had survived. But I wasn’t quite out of the woods just yet. That damn sulfur smell, it had been from my airbag being deployed. And I could hear the faint sound of something dripping. Was it gasoline? Suddenly panic swept over me, I had to get out of the truck now! I was able to unbuckle my seatbelt, but my door had been mangled so badly it wouldn’t open. Once again, like Popeye with his spinach, a supernatural strength came over me. I forced the door open and fell to the ground then ran as far away from the truck as I could.
As I gazed blankly around at the mess I had created, I became afraid. I knew this was bad. I could hear sirens. I looked at the fat man in the blue truck and he wasn’t moving. “Oh God, was he injured badly? Was he dead? Where’s my phone? What do I do?” I ran back to my truck and searched frantically for my phone. Then I remembered that I had seen it fall to the ceiling. It must be somewhere on the floor. There it was almost exactly opposite of where it had hit the ceiling. I picked it up and called the only person I knew of for help, my best friend Mario. When he answered I was already in tears. I could only muster up the words, “I’m in trouble, I crashed my truck, and I don’t know what to do.” His only words were, “Where are you? I’m on my way.” Those words brought me comfort and assurance.
I waited for the inevitable: the cops, the ambulance, and the questions. It seemed like an eternity, but Mario showed up. By then I was in the back of the ambulance refusing medical attention. I had no idea what to think. Did I have a controlled substance in my system? Of course I did. I was an addict. But no one knew that.
Mario and his girlfriend stayed by my side the entire time until my boss showed up at the scene. He seemed to have been in utter disbelief of the situation at hand. Who can blame him? As far as I could see, papers were scattered all over the road. My pesticide tank was a hundred yards from my poor mangled truck. Hazmat was at the scene making sure dangerous pesticides had not contaminated the side of the road. Cars were at a complete stand still for miles because the road was closed. Everything was a mess and it was all my fault.
Needless to say, I ended up losing my job. It wasn’t because I tested positive for any type of drug or alcohol. I made sure to pass the tests. It was because the accident was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Losing my job wasn’t my moment of enlightenment. It was those moments immediately following my accident that made me see things differently. After the dust had settled and I sat waiting for my friends to show up; I had time to reflect. As I gazed at my truck in utter disbelief, I wondered how it was that someone could survive such an accident. The entire front end had been demolished. A bare engine stared back at me, an engine that had obviously been pushed back several feet. A truck cab that had been completely caved in, except where the driver sat. Just fifteen feet farther was a drop down a steep hill with a residential neighborhood below. If I had rolled once, maybe twice more, I surely would have gone over the edge to my grave.
I saw this as God’s mercy in my life. I had been spared. It wasn’t really my time to die, just time to wake up. It placed a great appreciation for life and what it means. At that very moment, I understood that life is a gift, one not to be taken for granted. If I had been spared by God, Why? For what purpose? Something I had to find out for myself. Up until then, my wife had been my purpose. When she left, I had felt so had my purpose. By surviving that accident, It was obvious to me. God had to intervene to show me that I still had a reason to live.
