Brushes with Death and The Lessons Learned

In my own personal life, I have found that one thing that can change my perspective is a close call or a “brush with death” where an event has left me saying “Whoa! I almost died” or “I could’ve died” or “Dang! That was a close one”.

Sometimes, these events change us, other times we just say, “Phew, that was close!” and carry on.

But I do find that being faced abruptly with our mortality can often leave us a little shook up and allow us to do things a little differently if we can. I wanted to share 3 brushes I’ve had… one longer, two shorter, where my perspective changed… or didn’t.

Brush Number One

When I was 15 I worked at a sandwich shop called "Pete's Roast Beef". (Amazing Greek food!) It was part time and before I was even driving, but it allowed me to earn a little spending money that summer.

One night, around 8 pm, Pete, the owner, Nick, his brother, and I were closing up shop for the day, washing the equipment & meat slicers, sweeping the floors, and cleaning counters. I could hear the crackle of the pea stones under the wheels of a car as it drove into our parking lot. We had the "closed" sign up but still heard footsteps that made their way to the side entrance door and not to the order/pick up window, as we would have expected. Then, the three of us were as equally as perplexed by the sound of the door being rattled open. I turned around to see who it was.

The first thing I saw was a gun.

Then, I watched as the screen door was knocked off its hinges by a man with a ski mask, followed by a man with a stocking over his head, who was holding a knife. I saw Pete's eyes grow wide with fear.

The intruders demanded that each of us give them all our money. I had none. I started taking off my sterling silver rings, one on every finger - it was my thing back then - to at least offer them SOMETHING. They must have been gold or platinum guys because they just told me to get on the floor. Which I did.

After a myriad of gunpoint requests; open the register, stop talking, put all the money into a bag, empty pockets etc, the 2 men headed out and told us to count to 100- and, if we got up before then, we'd be shot. Easy decision for me.

I literally started counting. They came back about 15 seconds after I had started counting, not to shoot us, but to rip the phone off the wall so we couldn't call the police. With this return, I thought they were coming back to kill us.

My first thought as I went into fight, flight or freeze, was, "Wow. I am going to be shot to death. Will they shoot me in the back of the head? Will this be how my family finds me? I am so young! How could THIS be the way that I die?" I was petrified.

The 16-year-old picking me up arrived shortly after they left. I was still on the floor counting. I heard him walk up to the order window and again, thought they were back. He went back to his car, sat for a minute, and when he didn’t see anyone up, he went back to the window and asked, “What are you guys doing down there? Did you drop a spatula?” Knowing it was safe, we were brought to a nearby neighbors house where the police were called and arrived with many questions. I answered what I could but just wanted to go home.

My ride took me straight home, an hour before my curfew, and I went in and told my parents that I had been held up. They looked at the clock a little confused, and said, “What do you mean you were held up? It’s only 9:00?” I shared what had transpired. What a crazy thing for a child to have to share with her parents.

I was a mess for a couple of weeks. My fear was that maybe, like in the movies, the "bad guys" would try to find me ”to leave no witnesses” to what they had done. Even though I heard that they had robbed other places after us (and had gotten more violent), and had been caught, I still felt like my life was in danger.

I was young and impressionable. But never had I thought that anything bad could happen to me - I was too young. I didn’t understand the depth of understanding that you could wake up in the morning and have NO IDEA how your day would unfold, even when it started off "normal".

I wish I could say that it made me live every day differently, but I really didn't have the maturity or life experience for that to be true. I was young and invincible, and thankfully, after a few weeks, life slowly started to return to its normal rhythm (aside from watching the news to hear anything about the men who robbed us).

Brush Number Two

Later in life in my early 40’s, I was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer. Simply hearing "You have cancer" altered my life. It left questions, it left me panicked, and concerned for not only what my outcome would be, (would I be a statistic of a young woman in her 40’s who waited too long to be treated and died as a result?) but also what it would do to my children and family.

This experience, including treatment for over a year, taught me to believe strongly in a higher power and that I was chosen to go through this for a reason that was unknown to me. I wrote a book. I reached out and talked to many women. I shared my story. I could “Be the boon” for others. It made me stronger and less afraid.

Brush Number Three

A few years ago, when my oldest daughter Samantha, her 2 month old baby girl and I were heading home from Newington, a tractor trailer crossed the median into our lane into oncoming traffic. My daughter and I watched as the truck took out 4 cars ahead of us before it came to a stop a half a dozen cars in front of us on our side of the highway. A woman died. Others were injured. 10 minutes before it happened, we were at Trader Joe's, totally annoyed with a car that was in our way and wouldn't move while we sat and (rather impatiently) waited to get out of the parking lot.

We believe that the “annoying person” in the parking lot, in fact, saved our lives. It also made me think that when our souls made their contracts coming into this world, our exit date was not planned for that day. For that, I was thankful.

It also strengthened my belief in a higher power and that we have an intention for our lives. Things happen for a reason- unbeknownst to you, an annoying slow poke could be the best thing that happens to you that day by saving your life. I think of that when I am in a hurry and get stuck behind someone slow. It makes me take a breath and reset.

My own "brushes with death" at different chapters in my life have left me with different perspectives. But not being afraid (almost to the point of annoying!) to TALK about death, whether that is planning for it, talking about where we go, what our beliefs are, how we feel about it, how we can “be prepared” as well as how to live intentionally, has allowed me to live life VERY differently. The most important lesson is to be mindful of how we live each day. Be intentional. Be kind. Be our best selves.

I started a new practice when I get out of bed each morning. When each foot hits the floor, I say, "thank" and then "you." I am thankful for the opportunity to live another day, to make a difference, to say yes to the things that bring me joy and help others and “no thank you” to the things that steal my joy.

What have your brushes with death taught you? What went through your head? Are you doing anything differently?

There is no right or wrong answer.

We learn lessons from others. Please share if you are able.