
Life is full of blind corners and one of them hit me out of the blue last week.
I was parked in a marked bay on the side of the road, waiting to pick up my Mum after her French class.
It was 9.30pm, I had Triple J on the radio and was just thinking how quiet Northbridge is on a Tuesday night… as distinct from the weekend, when its heaving with girls and guys out to party (and depending on the time of night, out to vomit on the footpath, or punch each other in the head)…
Then, in my rearview mirror…. LIGHTS. SIRENS. SQUEAL. SMAAAASH.
The police had been pursuing a guy with a suspended license, who decided that braking was not in his repertoire and instead he would try and jump from the driver’s seat to prove that he was not the driver (!)
My car was his brake. Oh and the huge 4WD parked in front of me – that was my brake.
I knew I was injured straight away – I felt the pain shoot through my back as my body was thrown forward like a rag doll. And because I was parked, I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt.
I could see in the rearview mirror still and got a glimpse of the police jumping out to arrest the guy. I thought I would just stay put in case they were chasing him because he was on a shooting rampage (you never know!).
The Police did an amazing job – they were so attentive and caring. Then the ambulance arrived to assess me, put on my neck brace and take me to emergency.
Then, hilariously, due to a communication error about what kind of accident it was, a giant wailing fire truck full of beefy firemen arrived to cut me from the vehicle (which I clearly didn’t need!).
I would have been in heaven if I could have actually turned my head to look at any of them. Mum tells me they were suitably hot. DAMN.
Anyway, aside from my car being a write-off (I patted myself on the back for being smart enough to have comprehensive insurance, since the other guy didn’t even have a license!) my injuries should heal in a month or so and I will be back to normal. Well, a more enlightened version of normal.
It’s all the things we take for granted that get thrust into the spotlight when accidents happen, isn’t it?
If he had been going 10kms faster, I could have gone head first through the windscreen. I could be a paraplegic or have brain damage. It might take four people to roll me on my side so I could wee into a pan that a nurse holds under me. But thankfully, I am one of the lucky ones. I still have my dignity, my body and brain in one (albeit shaken and sore) piece.
It’s all these basic elements we forget are held so tenuously in the hands of fate – the things we cling to as fellow human beings: dignity, compassion, loyalty…. These are the things that get us through. We are all in this together, as Ben Lee so wisely says.
So, how many of those things do we throw away when we binge drink? Dignity – check. Compassion – frequently. Loyalty – sad, but often true.
Hello Sunday Morning is about redefining our relationship with alcohol, yes. But also, it gives us the chance to redefine our perspective on life.
Since the accident I have had two dreams (nightmares) in which I had downed an entire bottle of passion pop (poor taste, subconscious, poor taste). I felt like I had committed the worst of betrayals. Yet it was only to myself. But why is betraying yourself any more acceptable than betraying a friend? If you don’t like yourself a great deal, then it makes sense that you would have no regard for how you end up.
To take Sunday morning (and any other morning for that matter) for granted by wasting it on a hangover is a slap in the face to the healthy, full-bodied life we’ve been given.
If this sounds melodramatic or over the top, feel free to scoff. But come back to me when you’ve been at the scene of a serious accident and tell me it hasn’t changed your mind.
A friend of mine is about six weeks away from having a precious baby girl. Yesterday, some of her friends organised a ‘baby blessing’, something I had never been to. It was a real salute to the mother, something we don’t really have in our culture (don’t even mention hallmark mother’s day) and amongst other things, we all lit a candle and spent a minute thinking about everything our own mum’s went through to bring us into the world.
I know it sounds wanky, but it was really awesome.
And splashed across the news this week, of course, were the tragic stories of the young men we have lost to war. Good men who loved their families. I’m sure those wives and children would do anything to have one more Sunday morning, one more chance to hug him tight and say I love you.
I will never forget a beautiful phrase my Mum wrote to me in a letter when I was in London… “we are all human, fragile, unable to see round corners”.
So from now on I’m going to spend some time every Sunday being grateful for everything we have, aware that the next corner will bring unexpected challenges and adventures. Maybe this is the religion of a new generation.
Say hello, and thank you, Sunday Morning.