I don’t believe in luck or chance. “…All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:16
Two days after the van accident in Montana, our family journeyed home. We felt a mix of emotions while processing the tragedy: gratitude that Anders and I were alive and basically unharmed. But we also wrestled with shock, fear, and grief at the loss and injuries of the other passengers. For me, PTSD symptoms were at the surface. In an effort to work through some of these things, I reached out to our van driver’s wife.
Her name was Susan and she lived in Colorado. I contacted her through email. It was important for me to let her know that we were sorry for her loss and to convey that Anders and I were all right. We recognized it was just a terrible accident and placed no blame or fault on anyone. It brought me great comfort when she wrote back. So much so that I checked into the possibility of attending the funeral for her husband Dan and meeting Susan in person. I wanted some type of closure. But after adding up the costs and time factor, it didn’t make sense to go.
We decided to try and shift our focus to happier thoughts- like our son’s upcoming surprise Make-A-Wish trip to Hawaii. For the most part, the trip was a secret. Only Nathan and I, and a few others knew about it. We were given dates and told “Hawaii”, but other than that, Make-A-Wish held all the details of the trip.
And then two months later, our family found ourselves in Ko’Olina, (meaning: place of joy) on the island of Oahu, Hawaii. During our first full day of the trip, I received a surprising message. It was from Susan- the van driver’s wife. She said, “I see from Facebook that you’re in Hawaii! You won’t believe this but I am flying out to Honolulu tomorrow on a trip Dan and I planned before his accident. If possible, I would love to meet you!”
Unbelievable! Susan was on her way to the same island during the same week as us. Only God could have orchestrated this. I quickly wrote back, “Yes! We’d LOVE to see you too!” And a few days later, we were having lunch on Waikiki Beach with Susan. It was an emotional time and we marveled that our paths would cross in Hawaii of all places. Meeting her in person gave me exactly what I was looking for: closure. And for her, meeting us offered a sense of reality in the midst of a surreal loss. It also gave her the opportunity to make progress on the grieving process.
We hugged, took pictures, and shed tears. Before we parted ways, Susan gave Anders a special card. It contained a picture of Dan in his firefighter uniform along with a special badge that he and his department wore; Elk Creek Fire and Rescue, Conifer Colorado. Susan told Anders that firefighters were very brave people. And she wanted Anders to have a badge like Dan’s because he showed bravery too. It was hard to speak at that moment. And saying goodbye was heart wrenching. But we felt incredibly grateful for that amazing encounter. It was a gift from God.