Day 12: A Family of Angels

One of my clearest memories as I lay bleeding on the sidewalk eleven days ago was the sound of little ones.

Weird, eh?

Pre-school children’s voices floating behind my head. I couldn’t see them, but I heard quavery questions, and a deep male voice gently answering, alleviating evident fears: “She’s going to be ok; Mummy is looking after her. We need to stay here until the ambulance comes…”

…the voices faded.

I was being reminded to keep talking. I remember wondering why on earth any sane parent would keep impressionable children at a gory accident scene, but soon realized that a family of angels was caring for me. Mom was the physician who, within seconds, was cradling me as I huddled against the right front tire.

“You’re going to be alright Ma'am, I’ve got you. You’re in good hands. This is my work, I’m a trained professional emergency specialist. We’re both doctors and these are our children with us. I’m caring for you now – tell me what hurts…”

As she gently helped me off the curb and laid me down, I heard her well-informed voice following through a triage protocol relating all the good news she could find to my super-distressed Uli.

It turns out that Dad is a surgeon; I found that out today when they visited me in rehab. Thankfully he didn’t have to use any of those doctor skills on the sidewalk! He was a kind and aware parent, offering his children a slice of life that little ones shouldn’t have to be aware of but is part of their family's daily history. When I received his text that both his 2-year-old daughter and 4-year-old son (the ages of our youngest grandchildren) had something to give me, it brought me to ever-present tears. They had been checking in all week remembering. Both wanted to see me in person to be sure I was getting better.

These colorings were their precious gift to me. I love the simple message this spotted rabbit brought to me today!

Curiously, two young mothers with littles were also visiting me when the family arrived and together we shared tears and joy and a deep awareness that despite all our fragile psyches, all is very well. Healing energy flowed in that room as the kids enjoyed some of my ‘get-well’ chocolate. I reveled in the instant community that emerged with total strangers. Yes – we are all linked and we rarely see how we interrelate connected, in so many circles of hidden, unspoken, unrecognized community.

Trauma happens.

People get hurt.

Over the past years, I’ve been studying with spiritual teacher and trauma healer Thomas Hubl. I’m fully aware that traumatic energy catches in our bones, sinews, gut. At the cellular level, the powerful flight and freeze response in our core brains freezes indigestible experiences in place. The sweet and tender child, the soft bunny rabbit of our innermost being hides behind a plug of unprocessed terror and waits to be witnessed and held in a compassionate gaze.

What a remarkable joy to be part of a life story of a family who know how to be with trauma and not run away. To stay close and serve with their gifts and offer the fierce nectar of reality to their children. To help them swallow the bad medicine, express the pain, and then digest and savor the goodness, the possibility of healing that comes in many forms.

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I’ve asked many of my friends and family this question: Where does my story, or any story of sudden ‘accident’ land in your psyche, in your emotional and body-being? How are you being invited as you read this story, or other similar tragedies to turn inward and find whatever healing you need? Then in turn to be able to offer your God-given life circuitry melted down and running over in peace – to others?

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Back: Day 11

Next: Day 13