Turning Points...Experiences that make a difference

**Commitment to be happy and make the best of my life’s circumstances

When I was 13 my sister, my friend and I were in a very serious car accident. My sister was home from college for the holidays and we were so excited to go Christmas shopping. As we went around a corner near our home, we saw a boy we both knew and I said, “Honk the horn, there’s Scott!” My sister looked off to see Scott and as I turned around there was a tree in front of us. There wasn’t time to do anything about it and we plowed into the tree. As a result, I went through the windshield. I don’t ever remember passing out. My sister saw my face and did…I leaned over my girlfriend to grab the mirror to see what was going on with all this blood pouring out of my face – I could see my teeth through the rip in my cheek and under my nose…in the meantime, she saw all the blood on her and cried, “I’m bleeding to death!!!” and promptly passed out. My sister would come to every once in awhile and take a look at me and pass out again, then my friend would wake up and look at the blood all over her and think she was bleeding to death and pass out again. I don’t know why, but it struck me funny. There was a crowd by now forming all around our totaled car and I couldn’t figure out why no one else could see the humor in this situation. When the ambulance came they laid me down in the back and we took the hysterical ride to the hospital with sirens and running lights – dodging cars and individuals. As we passed by the theater on University Ave., there were people lined up around the block for a blockbuster movie. I turned over towards the window and sat up on my elbow to see if I recognized anyone in the line. This started a chain reaction of pointing and horrified looks. Again, it struck me funny. I somehow knew everything would be fine.

After we arrived at the hospital there was a flurry of nurses and doctors hooking me up to machines and cleaning off the wounds and sewing up my face. It took over 250 stitches. (They were little ones) I looked pretty awful I guess because no one would let me see a mirror. There was a fear that the tissue in my lip wouldn’t live. I really didn’t realize what that even meant. For the next week it was touch and go…my upper lip was purple and didn’t show too much promise. I finally got to see a mirror – not good. I looked like Frankenstein’s daughter! Now came the moment of truth. My sister was driving the car and felt like she had ruined my life. Was I going to let her feel that kind of guilt or would I take responsibility for causing her to take her attention off the road. Try as I would, I never could convince Darlene that it really wasn’t her fault. I overheard my mother talking to my grandma and saying that if I didn’t want to go back to school she wasn’t going to make me. (That was tempting…)My grandmother told her that that might be a big mistake. She didn’t say more to mother about why, but grandma was wise and I later learned HOW wise.

I learned who my friends were. By the time I came home from the hospital my face was purple, green, and yellow, from the bruising. Because I wasn’t allowed to wash my hair, it was still full of dried blood after two weeks in intensive care, and all the delicate stitchery in my head and face. I looked very awful. I wasn’t allowed to laugh for fear of ripping the stitches above my lip…so I had to laugh like a ventriloquist without even moving my mouth or face. That alone was hilarious.

There was a boy down the street who was quite popular who came to visit me. It really was nice of him. Since it was around Christmas time, he decided to take me Christmas shopping to get me out of the house. Soon after we arrived at the mall, it was evident that I was really scaring little kids with my face. He could see that I was feeling a little upset about the reactions of all these people so he said he had a fun idea. He took me to the elevator in a large department store and we spent the rest of the night, until the stores closed, with me right in front of the opening on the doors. I just stood there stiff, staring way off as the elevator doors would open. No one rode the elevator all night and it was a serious Christmas shopping night – about 2 days before Christmas. I had to laugh with that silly 'no expression laugh’ when I was absolutely bursting inside.

I’ll never in my life forget that wonderful night. I learned to really laugh at myself and to never take life so seriously that I can’t make a hard situation fun. I’ve often looked back on the whole experience of that accident. I learned more from it than most experiences I’ve had in my life. An interesting comment was made by Farrell Lewis, ( head of the Family Psychology dept. at BYU and also my brother in law.) When Darlene and I stayed at their home for Womens Conference. he told me, “You may have been injured in that accident, but Darlene wears the scars.” That observation has caused me years of reflection. I hope Darlene realizes that I am truly grateful for the insights I gained through that whole experience, and still am learning.