I am Iron Man.
I know. I do not look like Iron Man right here. But I am. Or at least I should be considered part of his team. We have things in common, Iron Man and I. We both have anxiety. We are roughly in the same age category....well, 5 years apart anyway. We have had to work hard to overcome. We really do want what is best for everyone, even when we know it will take a sacrifice. And though we are merely humans, we do have superpowers lurking underneath the surface. My superpower, you ask? I know what you're thinking. "She is going to say that *IT'S LOVE*"-and you'd be close. I do think love is a strength of epic proportions and I like to believe I carry that strength in super-human quantities. It
is something I believe in COMPLETELY. I
know it will save the world.
But my super power..........
........IS HOPE. YES, HOPE!
This picture will actually help me sell it. Because although I have always known it deep down, this is one of the places I fully realized my superpower.
A couple of Sundays ago, life was feeling pretty heavy. I know we all go through days like this, but I become almost crazed in trying to fight that heaviness off. Life is too short to feel that way for too long. Meghan and I decided we needed to go visit one of our friends who was laid to rest in the Brigham City cemetery and look for some peace while we were there.
I know there are some out there that would ask why a cemetery would give me peace. I have always loved being in cemeteries- in fact in some of my late night meanderings, I have found myself there often. The history alone attracts me. And the
stories do, as well. I am drawn to the peacefulness there. Though I have always been drawn to them, I have learned so much more about the sacred nature and symbolism involved since my Meghan took a job as the clerk of our local cemetery. It is so much more than a place where our loved ones are laid to rest. It's a place of safety, of memories, of lifetimes, and of
hope. Hope that there's more. Hope that love lives on. Hope of seeing loved ones again. So, yes, HOPE.
NOW. If I were an author, let's say Charles Dickens, I would have to make sure you understand that I am deathly allergic to bees (or stings from any kind of wasp, hornet, yellow-jacket , or otherwise.) You must understand this, or none of my story will seem wondrous!
But back to that Sunday, Meghan and I headed up to the cemetery in search of some solace and respite. We left in a hurry and I grabbed my purse that was nearby-but knew we didn't have much time so we jumped in the Mustang and sped up the highway. I was still in my skirt from being at church, and we walked up to the place where we feel the enormity of the love our friend, Nik had to offer the world, and the impact he had on it. We laid a blanket out in front of his headstone, and sat down to ponder. I have always felt that there are spirits that walk among us, to whisper promptings and lend strength when we need it-I feel them acutely and have always been grateful that I can. Meghan is the same way. To be honest, she is my mini-me in so many ways.We have felt Nik in our lives-his influence and his love. It has been spread through his family and friends to so many around the world. But the cemetery felt extra quiet that day. It felt a little lonely, and we realized we don't feel as many presences lately. It makes us feel a little deserted and bereft....we have been used to the company. As we sat there lamenting the losses of spirit both physically and spiritually, I felt something in my skirt, and... too late, realized a yellow jacket had stung me. I did not have my Epi-pen with me. I didn't even think to grab it. The enormity of what was going to happen to me hit me like a ton of bricks and I swore-yes swore-as I realized I was going to die in a cemetery right in front of my daughter. They say your life flashes before your eyes if you are dying-I contest that all that flashed before me was the horror of leaving my daughter like that. Instantly and alone. I feel the panic even as I write. I have never felt such panic in my life. I thought to myself-"this place should be full of spirits watching over my daughter and me! I can't die here. I can't die in front of her!" This all took place in milliseconds but it felt like I was living a slow motion nightmare. I looked at Meghan in horror and felt such guilt that I would be so irresponsible to leave my shot home, and now she would have to witness my death. I can't even describe it. I looked around in my frenzied state and though my heart was racing uncontrollably, things slowed down even more. I thought-"this is it. I'm going".
But then something amazing happened. I felt peace and calm- which was strange since I "knew" that I was leaving. I felt hope. I didn't feel the angels coming to get me and take me home, nor did I feel any presence of angels there to help me. But I did feel hope. I knew heaven knew what was happening and that I was going to know what to do next. I didn't know if that meant I would have to choke out some goodbye to Meghan or just lie down and sleep, but there was no doubt I would know what to do. And I did. Though I did not feel Nik with us, I knew he knew what was happening to me, and though my throat was quickly restricting and my leg was swelling, I suddenly had the presence of mind to look beside me and see my purse. In the very top was my rescue inhaler. I knew to take 4 puffs as quickly as I could. Then I saw the water bottle I had grabbed on the way out of the house and a bottle of Benadryl beside it. I knew the inhaler would keep me open long enough to choke down the Benadryl. I knew I had to take 4 of them if I was going to live. The prompts came like lightning and I knew what to do in each fraction of a second to keep me breathing until I was rescued. I will say I have never taken so many puffs of inhaler in my life, but I know it kept me alive until I got my shot.
Long story short, I'm alive. I'm ALIVE. In reality, I should be gone. That alone gives me enough hope to float the Titanic. In my exhilaration of staying alive, it didn't register until later the Hell that Meghan went through, thinking she was going to lose me. She was a trooper. My family was wonderful. There's a lot more to the story. The rest was not easy. There was a lot of quick thinking on the part of Meghan, and Chad who sped up the highway to get me to my shot and get us home. I suffered, and so did they. It was not fun. It was one of the scariest things I have ever been through. It was terrifying for Meghan. But I'm alive. It is a modern day miracle. If you don't believe in miracles, I ask you to look at me.
I am one.
Now that we are through it, and realize the miracles that were poured out on us, the question is, what do we do with it?
We share hope. We hand it out like candy and cling to it with everything we have. We spread love-as Nik did and still does. We love life. We look for good. We look for miracles and recognize them for what they are. WE USE OUR SUPERPOWERS. And we are grateful.
*Just a note here. Nik made an impact on our lives. His family makes sure his legacy of love lives on. To see more go to:
https://www.facebook.com/spreadingnikslove/
