I was driving to the grocery store after dinner yesterday with my four year old daughter, Amalie, when I came to a stop light at an intersection.  As I waited for an opening in traffic to make a right turn, a man on a motorcycle went zipping by.  Nothing worth noticing, and in fact, this sight would have probably never consciously been considered until I was forced to replay it a few minutes later.  I turned onto the street and drove to the next light where the store was located.  As I was about to turn into the parking lot, I saw the motorcycle again.  This time, it was lying in the middle of the street and the man who was riding it was slowly attempting to stand up.  His young daughter, who looked to be around twelve years old, was frantically screaming “daddy!” on the side of the road.  I felt my heart rate increase significantly an everything immediately began feeling very surreal.

I quickly pulled over got out of my car to find the man bleeding profusely from the side of his head.  As I approached, he brushed off everyone attempting to help him, slowly started his motorcycle, jumped on, yelled for his daughter to get on the back, and tore off heading  back the same way he came.

A group of onlookers, myself included, stood in shock wondering what just happened.  Was the man ok?  Was his daughter who was on the back of the bike ok?  Why was he adamantly refusing all help?

In moments like these, we see a side of life we don’t witness very often.   We are given a brief glimpse of just how real and fragile life really can be.  One moment, this man was riding down the street on his bike, the next, he was lying on the side of the street, lucky to be alive.

This experience was particularly emotional for me because I, too, am lucky to be alive after miraculously surviving a car accident 9 months ago.  Unfortunately, it often requires experiences like these to remember the gift we have all been given in life.  How amazing every moment is, how sweet each and every breath is, and ultimately, how finite it is.

As I put my kids to bed, I listened intently as Jacob, my seven year old son, read aloud a journal he had been keeping at school.  I tucked Jacob and Amalie into bed, at which point they decided to make me the third member of their BFF club, promptly teaching me their secret hand shake, a kiss on each cheek.  And only because I had experienced the fragile nature of life, was I able to be so intensely present and grateful, knowing how precious the moment was.  I believe that it is in this state that we are able to give and receive the most in life, squeezing every last beautiful experience out of life as if you were juicing a lemon.  It allows us to see the world through new eyes, letting go of all the labels we have attached to the world.  When we do this, I think we will find that every moment is precious, sacred, and worth being alive for.  It is also from this state of love and gratitude that I believe true healing occurs.  True healing being healing on a level much deeper than the physical.  Being that we cannot take the physical with us once we pass, it is this healing that matters most.

With my children asleep, we had just turned out the light, when my wife’s phone rang.  It was her mother, her grandfather had passed away.  I feel so blessed that I knew him and that my kids had a chance to meet their great grandpa.  I wish him the best in the next part of his journey.