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Against All Odds

By Ginger Boda, (c) 2003
(Used with permission)

I have three children, but it seems that our first-born son must have more lives than that of a cat! I'd say he has a very attentive Guardian Angel that has his job cut out for him! Jason tried to enter this world posterior and overdue. His heart kept decelerating every time I "pushed" and so forceps guided him out safely, they claimed...but I knew better.

At two, he got a hold of a hanger at the end of my ironing board, and before I could get close enough to grab it, he had poked his left eye, pulled to get it out, and ripped his tear duct completely. Running to my neighbor's car, my baby covered in blood and going into shock, the only prayer I could say was, "Oh God please!" I felt like I must be the worst Mom ever! I just couldn't believe it! But after a few stitches, we were on our way home. The nurses said, "He was lucky"...but I knew better.

Jason snuck out the front door of our house, when he was about three, as I was bringing in groceries. He got into our van, pretending to drive. After taking off the emergency brake (Well, they DO pay attention to us at that age), he put it into gear and since the van was pointed at the street and parked on an incline in our driveway, it started rolling.

I saw the van in motion, through the front living room window and panicked. I ran like crazy, losing my heels, ripping the hem of my dress, trying to get to my little boy. Only the top of his head was visible as the van proceeded towards a parked car! Another car was barreling down the street. Somehow our van stopped 6 inches short of hitting the parked car, and the other car just whizzed past our rear bumper, missing by millimeters it seemed! Some said, "Gee Jason's a good driver, and he must have steered well. What luck!"

Remember he was not able to see out the window, and he WAS only three! Yep, I knew better. Somebody greater than he and I was there.

This little child of mine kept me busy for sure. Still a toddler, Jason escaped out of his bedroom early one summer morning. He managed to free the "childproof" cover from the doorknob. He ingeniously drug his toy box down the hall to act as a stepping stool while he performed a military maneuver in unlatching the two locks high on the house door that led to our garage. Once in the garage, he found telephone books to stack, bringing him eye level with the side door to the outside world. Disengaging two more locks, he was on his way, footed PJ's and all, to surprise our neighbors at 6 am by walking right into their home. Discerning a possible intruder, the owner quickly located his firearm. As Jason, all 2 1/2 feet of him, entered our suspecting neighbor's abode, he was welcomed by a gun, pointed and readied for unwanted company. Everyone said that Jason was lucky that our neighbor paused that split-second long enough to register who he was. I, of course, knew better! His angel went before him, while his clueless parents slept soundly! We did, however, install a house alarm after that, needless to say.

One day while I was at work, my day care provider called, informing me that Jason had a "little accident" at school. He was in 3rd grade and loved sports. Apparently, while attempting to catch a football, he overran his touchdown area, impaling his nose on the chain link fence that surrounded the schoolyard. I will never forget his eyes darting back and forth as his Dad and I stood on each side of him while the doctor sewed his sniffer back in place. We had to hold him down, reassuring him the entire time; although his nose did look like someone had taken scissors and just cut it in half! �After a few months, there was hardly a trace that he had kissed the fence. Many of my friends commented on how great that doc was, and I agreed. But it was evident to us that although he'd been hurt, it could have been worse. He was undoubtedly protected from on high.

Once, when the flu bug hit us, Jason came home from school, went right to bed, and slept till morning. I had checked him a dozen times for his fever, praying over him. Before sunup, I went to his room, asking, " How ya doing Hon?" He didn't answer but simply sat staring into his closet. "Jason, talk to me, how do you feel?" �He looked over at me with that innocent 10-year old face, and smiled, "Mom, an angel was in my closet all night." �I noticed the door was ajar. Jason continued, "It was small and shiny white, but I couldn't see his face."

"Hmm," I replied, "Well did he have wings?"

"No,...maybe they were behind him," he suggested. I had never really spoken of angels to my children, except to say that God sent them to watch over us. Jason proceeded to explain how he woke up a few times in the night and just watched the figure in the closet, then fell back to sleep, feeling safe and secure. I noticed that his fever had broken. His little brother was listening and began to dance for joy all around the room. And so did I. Through the years of little league and high school there were a couple of times that a batted ball made it's way right back to the pitcher's head. It's hard enough to watch that happen, when the pitch is clocked at 85 mph, but more so when the pitcher is your son. Yes, the paramedics and hospital knew him on a first name basis, I believe. But God knew every hair on Jason's head!

In his senior year of High School, Jason borrowed our Suburban to go see his girlfriend. On a three-lane road the truck started smoking and stalled in the fast lane. Jason was checking under the hood, while he and a passerby (who had stopped to assist him) were deciding to push it off the road. As Jason closed the hood and began to step onto the median, a car crashed into the back of the truck, killing the driver instantly. The impact threw my son �50 feet up the road. Had he landed on the asphalt, we are sure he would have died also. But amazingly, he landed onto the median, as if someone had carried him. A year later, Jason underwent major back surgery to repair four herniated discs. But he was alive and healed miraculously. I remember feeling so helpless after that horrible accident and often thought about the family of the deceased driver. It could've been us who were grieving such a loss. Jason was spared yet once again. "Luck" was always the answer by so many people that heard of the accident, and saw Jason running cross-country 4 days afterward. But we, his family, knew better.

Jason will be 25 years old in a couple of days now, and this is one birthday we celebrate with awe and gratefulness. On August 9th of this year, he came close to losing his life, again. As he traveled home from a friend's house, he was fighting sleep, after driving nearly an hour. We had no way to reach him, as his cell phone was left at work, and by 2 am I was on my knees. A call came from the hospital at 8:30 that morning, informing me that my son was badly hurt. Having dozed off, he lost control of his car, slamming it into a huge tree, a block from home! He had dislocated and fractured his right wrist, lacerated his left wrist, missing his artery by 1/8 inch, fractured a rib, punctured his right leg, and tore his nose cartilage completely, as well as his eyelid, cheek and chin. It took 4 hours and seventy stitches to sew him up.

I looked upon my Jason lying there in the Emergency room, and with all that had happened, a heavenly hush came over my spirit. And I felt the presence of goodness right close by. I just wondered what wonderful thing God had in store for my son for him to have lived against all odds through this.

As of this writing, 24 days have passed, and Jason looks as handsome as ever! His scars are barely visible, he limps slightly, and his right arm is in a cast. He is a walking miracle to me. Had anyone told me twenty-six years ago, that we would experience so much trauma with our first born, I might have chosen NOT to get pregnant. But the beauty is that we walk by faith, not by sight. And God's love and protection gets us through the trials and onto the blessings. How can anyone know the healing touch of springtime, had they not walked through the winter's bitter cold? Jason has a testimony for life, I'd say.

So is it nine lives? Nope. Lady luck? Not at all. The Grace of God? Without a doubt! A Guardian Angel? Absolutely! In fact, our son probably has more than one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ginger is an award winning author, contributing to various online publications. She weaves faith, tradition and humor into her stories and poetry, striving to lift the spirit, and encourage the soul of the reader. Some of her stories are, "A Star is Born," "Baby's Day Out," "Fireworks of Destiny," "Just One More Day," "Birthday Flower Attack," "September's Grief", and "A Cheerleader for Life." Ginger lives in Southern California with her husband, Mark, of 27 years, and three grown children. Although she works for a bank, she feels that her greatest investment has been into the lives of her family. She enjoys writing, gardening, reading, and collecting hearts. You can reach her at: Rhymerbabe @ aol.com


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