In the Blink of an Eye

Think of all the times you’ve heard or uttered "I’m bored"; bored with the moment, bored with your job, bored with the predictability of your life. You long for something exciting to come along and shake things up. File this feeling under the ‘be careful what you wish for’ category, because in the blink of an eye life as you know it can change- not always for the better.

This is an article I keep starting, but can’t seem to finish. Because each time I think I’m done, I hear another story sadder than the last one. Stories that continue to remind me of the fragility of life.

During the span of one week at work, there were two unexpected family deaths. The seemingly healthy 33-year old nephew of a coworker never woke up one Sunday morning, and the sister-in-law of another, a personal trainer in her 50’s, was found dead of unknown causes. As tragic as these losses are, the world does not stop and wait for us to finish our grieving. Both have returned to work, moving slower and slumping lower under the enormous weight of their grief. We pass each other and nod, acknowledging the sad, silent bond that connects us.

At an early morning blood test last week, a stranger shared with the waiting room that his boss and good friend died just a few hours prior. He was 53 years old, had been diagnosed with esophageal cancer just 10 days prior. While the doctors were planning his long-term treatment options, he quietly passed away in the middle of the night. Such a sad story, but they are all sad stories. So many, I’ve rewritten this entire column twice, replacing each tragedy with a newer, more recent one.

But out of some tragedies, come stories of hope, courage and second chances.

A few months ago, a member of the Wicked Running Club in her 20’s found out why she was feeling so tired, when she was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Her strength and openness about her cancer diagnosis and chemotherapy treatment have resulted in an outpouring of compassion and love from friends and family alike; positive energy that I’m convinced have healing powers stronger than any drug.

And very recently, two prominent Salem citizens came close to a world without them. One nearly choked to death on a bagel lodged in her throat as she rushed to work, her life saved by a stranger who happened to be passing by. And another suffered a severe knee injury, resulting in the discovery of not one but two undetected life-threatening blood clots- an unfortunate accident that likely saved his life.

In the blink of an eye, there is a collision of what you thought your life was, and what it could have been if circumstances had been different. And somewhere in the middle lies a new appreciation for the ordinary day.

On an ordinary day about a month ago, I finished a lunch hour run on the Esplanade and crossed the street to work, heaving happily from the exertion; appreciating the beauty of the crisp early fall day. Suddenly, a car in front of the building surged backwards at full speed to secure a parking spot, coming so close to hitting me that the rush of air bouncing off my body made a loud, dull thump. The horrified faces of the witnesses and shaking body of the driver who didn’t see me until too late confirmed how close I had come to a life I’m scared to imagine.

It takes a while to feel the full impact of a ‘close call’, but once you feel it you remember it forever. It feels like a gift. It feels like a second chance. It feels like an opportunity to find a new appreciation for the simple beauty of another ordinary day.