Calling All Angels

It always seems to hit me at the most surprising times. I’ll be going about my day, doing almost anything, when suddenly, the accident comes rushing back, bringing with it a wave of emotions like a cold water bucket challenge I didn’t know I’d signed up for.

Recently, my wife and I went out alone for the first time since the accident. She was excited to hear Train, one of her favorite bands, a band we listened to frequently when we were dating—long before our kids were even a gleam in our eyes. Though, as I write that, I realize we were both ready for kids and knew we wanted them from the moment we met. I knew right away that she was the one. From our very first date, I could see she would be an amazing mom. Sometimes, you just know.

We met some friends at the concert, people we hadn’t seen in a while. As we made our way over to see Brooks, who was working at one of the concession stands, I guess we weren’t quite as alone as we thought. I watched Brooks serve customers, chatting easily with everyone in line, and felt a wave of gratitude. “Everyone loves Brooks,” I said to my wife. It’s true; he’s great fun to be around and fantastic with people. I might be biased, but anyone who knows him would agree. I’m so thankful that the accident didn’t take away his personality, his light, and his easygoing nature.

Brooks will soon head back to school, transferring from Portland State to the University of Oregon. I’m thrilled for him, but even though I’m not happy about the circumstances that kept him home this past semester and summer, I’ll miss having him around. It’s a funny mix of emotions—glad he’s going, sad he’s leaving.

Lauren is working a few hours a week and staying home for the next couple of semesters, postponing her college plans until next fall. I’m sad she’s not going yet, but glad she’ll be with us a little longer. It’s another odd blend of feelings.

As we found our seats, REO Speedwagon began to play, and I realized the last time I saw them was around 1978. Hearing their unique sound brought back memories from long ago, and it was a lot of fun. Yes, they’ve aged, but so have I, and it was great to see the 72-year-old lead singer bounding around the stage. The highs weren’t quite as high as they used to be, but it made me happy and brought back fond memories of when I was Lauren’s age.

Then, Train took the stage. The lights went down, and the lead singer, still in darkness, began singing:

It hit me out of nowhere. I gasped, my eyes filled with tears, and I fought hard not to let them fall. I was stunned by how deeply the words affected me, how they seemed to descend on me from nowhere. My mind went straight to all the people—all the angels—who helped my children: the friends, family, and acquaintances who participated in the GoFundMe, offered support, provided care, and shared stories from the moments after the accident until the time they returned home.

I need a sign to let me know you’re here
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere
I need to know that things are gonna look up
‘Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup

When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head
When you feel the world shake from the words that are said

And I’m calling all angels
And I’m calling all you angels

And I won’t give up if you don’t give up

I always look for silver linings, and the one I hold onto here is that I feel things more deeply than I did before. Although being caught by surprise brings a sense of loss of control and vulnerability, it also touches me and reminds me of the immense gratitude I have for all of you.

And I’m thanking all you angels.

Lyrics of course credit to https://www.instagram.com/train/ @train and thanks for singing https://www.instagram.com/patmonahan/ @patmonahan