Friday, May 18, 2007

Grateful.

I'm not grateful for another night of spectacularly bad sleep, but I'm SO GRATEFUL AND THANKFUL TO GOD that my dad is okay after a terrible wreck. He was trapped inside for more than an hour, and they had to break the windshield and remove the top of the minivan to get him out. (The first responders were horrified to look in and see him covered in blood...which turned out to be a giant container of Cattleman's barbecue sauce he'd purchased at Sam's that had exploded on impact.)

This link may not work for very long, but there's video of the wreck at:
http://tinyurl.com/2nnhcf

You want to talk SOBERING? The last frame of the video showed my dad lying on the roadway, surrounded by EMTs. My stomach twisted into a knot when I saw that!

Who cares about the van, how great it ran, or its four new tires? My Dad is okay.

Who cares that it happened on a busy workday when none of his kids could get to Virginia? If it had happened on a Friday instead of a Thursday, my mom might have been in the passenger seat...and Mom & Dad are both certain that anyone in that seat could not have survived.

Who cares about Dad's ruined new Christmas shirt? I'm so grateful to God that when the doctors cut it away, they discovered that all the stains were from hickory barbecue sauce and NOT Dad's (Texas mesquite) blood.

We love you, Dad! Here's wishing you a speedy recovery. Take it easy and let someone else preach this Sunday...you just put your feet up and start planning your move to Texas where the roads are wide and flat and the only reason to have a wreck is because you're distracted by the breathtaking sunsets...

6 comments:

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Kirsten said...

Kristy,
let your dad get better, and then we can plan their move to the best part of the US! And while we are at it we plan to move the rest of our families close by also :-)
I am glad your dad is improving and the 'blood' turned out to be BBQ sauce. Think about that one...of all the people who could be covered with that it was your dad!
I know your mom reads your blog, so here are my prayers to you also. I think you both need to come and spend some more time back here in W.Texas and review the beauty again. Take a rest for a while and don't go back to work until you are really healed up.

irene said...

Was it the Ivy Road accident? Wow! I just kept thinking, what if it was MY daddy? *chills* I'm so thankful for you, too! =hugs=

Melanie said...

Oh wow! I was close to tears when I read this one... and I have yet to see the video attachment! You are SOOOOO RIGHT... NOTHING matters except that God spared your dad!! One can always get new shirts, vans, and BBQ sauce, but never a new dad! :)

GOD BLESS you all!

Misadventures of the Dynamic Uno said...

Oh my goodness! I'm SO glad that your Dad is doing better. How scary to find out and then to "watch" it on TV. I pray that your Dad and Mom are doing well--if they need some sunshine and sandy beach therapy, let me know. :)

http://blueridgeguy.blogspot.com/ said...

Thank you for the kind words, Kristy...by the grace of God, my life was saved that awful day. I also want to praise the infernal seat belt, although it has left its marks and bruises on my body. Mom's passenger seat also worked me over pretty well---perhaps paying me back for the sassy remarks I have made through the years to her? I remembered thinking as I hung suspended from the seat belt, the van knocked on its side, "I haven't been hit that hard since football." and that includes both Odessa and Oklahoma football. The other car hit me so very hard that it knocked the handle off a socket wrench---guys will understand what I am talking about. Tools were destroyed, and I was able to walk unsteadily away from the hospital, the same day.
We must be ready to go. I had just had my teeth cleaned at the dentist, and to my Mother's pride, I had on clean underwear. Good thing too, everyone saw it. The backboard crew managed to pull my pants off as they slid the panel INTO my pants and forced off my trousers. Thanks, guys. But they were great, and I do thank them.

I wonder how many Texans have appeared at St. Peter's gates doused in BBQ sauce?

Dad