THE DAY WE ALMOST DIED

They say after about 70 or 75 years of age, you are living on borrowed time. The past 16 years of my life feels like borrowed time. In 2005 a car accident nearly claimed the lives of eight people. Myself, my younger sister, my parents, my grandparents, my uncle and my aunt to be specific.

After supporting my uncle and his family with a funeral in Wepener, my older sister wanted to drive home (about a 5 hour drive to Joburg) with my cousins. My parents agreed and so we brought my aunt along with us in her place. My dad drove a Mazda double cab at the time. Four people in the cab and myself, my mom and my younger sister sat in the back with the canopy. We got a call to pick up my uncle from church for some reason, and so we did once we got to Joburg. On the way to drop my aunt, we stood on an incline ready to turn right waiting for the opposite traffic to clear. A Volvo driven by a woman with a female passenger became airborne at the top of the incline and smashed head first into the front of our truck.

Due to the force of the impact, the car spun before coming to a stop. Myself, my mother and my younger sister were ejected from the back through the canopy windows. My father took most of the impact and was pinned in the car with the engine non his lap. My father described seeing his wife and daughters laid out on the floor motionless. Not being able to get to us and help was the worst part for him.

My uncle was able to move and get out of the car and he ran to each person checking to see if we were alive and okay. I was barely conscious but I distinctly heard him tell me “Darc, we were in an accident, everyone is okay, I need you to not panic and not move”. The next thing I remembered was being wheeled down the hospital passage. In the x-ray room I asked the nurses scurrying around me if my family was okay. No one responded. I asked again. Still no response. I then freaked out and had to be restrained and sedated to avoid potentially harming myself even more. I don’t remember much after that and only gained full consciousness by the time I was at my aunts house.

Two days later my aunt asked me if I’d like to go see my parents. I said yes and to be honest I wasn’t ready for what I saw.

My mother was in an isolated ICU unit of her own. By far the most critical one out of the eight of us. She was in an induced coma; just laying there. My mother had broken her pelvis in five places and had a pretty bad laceration on her arm that required skin grafting. Not to mention the internal bleeding that increased her risk factor of dying exponentially. I stopped at the door of her unit and was to terrified to go near her. She looked dead. But then as if God knew I needed reassurance, she opened her right eye and looked directly at me and then closed it again. She has no recollection of that but to me that was God telling me she was going to be okay.

My father’s right leg had been sliced straight through the bone and was only attached to the rest of the leg by a portion of muscle. He was transported to a different hospital than the rest of us. All doctors and medical personal that worked on my father told him that they would need to amputate his leg. There was one doctor who by chance happened to be at that hospital at that time that was able to reattached my father’s leg. I saw my father while he was in ICU. He had this huge mental rod screwed into his leg that scared the shit out of me. He hugged me and told me not to worry and that we’re going to be okay.

My younger sister had a concussion and some cuts and bruises. However at night she’d randomly get up and start walking around like a zombie. Every night for about five days I got up to fetch her and bring her back to bed.

My grandfather has asthma and had a severe attack the night of the accident. Aside from that he only had seatbelt bruising.

My grandmother had dentures and nearly bit her tongue off. She had broken an ankle and had a seatbelt bruise as well.

Fortunately, my aunt and uncle and myself were relatively unharmed. I later found out that I was inches away from knocking a light-post and potentially dying if not paralyzed.

Everyone made a full recovery by the grace of God. My mother spent months in rehab and had to learn how to walk again. She now hikes regularly and is still the toughest woman I know. My father still has both his legs and can walk; all be it not for very long.

I could go on about the finer details but I feel I have shared enough. Words cannot express my gratitude for life, and the lives of my family members, and the prayer worriers that lifted us up in faith. I have no other explanation other than divine intervention from God. This is only but one of many story’s about God using my family as a testimony for His works, goodness and grace. By no means do I want to place my faith on you by telling you this story. But regardless of your faith you can’t deny something unexplainable happened that night.