Why Didn't I Die?

by Judith Ashley

It happened on a Sunday about this time of year over forty years ago. I-84 was fairly new and not as well traveled as it is today. I'd spent the weekend in Umatilla, OR and was driving home to Portland - traveling west on I-84.

"The Rains" had arrived.

Wipers and radio on, I was singing along.

One minute I was driving and the next I was flying…my car hydroplaning. 

I lost control, spun out, and crashed into the cement divider. When the car stopped it was pointing the wrong way. Barreling towards me was a pick-up truck and cars.

I’m going to die, flashed through my mind. 

Accepting my fate, I curled in a ball facing the back of the front seat covering my head and face with my arms hoping I protected my face enough that the casket wouldn’t need to be closed.

My life did not flash before my eyes but I did pray my son would be okay and that he would be able to stay with my parents and not go to Ohio to live with his father.

Tapping and a voice caught my attention.

“Are you okay?” a male voice called out.

I lifted my head. A man knocked on my window.

Stunned, I struggled to sit, the seat belt still tight around my waist.

It wasn't easy but he managed to open my door. (The passenger side door was lodged against the cement divider). Thoroughly shaken, with supreme effort I scooted out and leaning heavily against the car, stood.

Another driver stopped and directed traffic until the state police arrived and took over that job. After getting my information and account as to what happened, the trooper arranged for my car to be towed to the nearest town, Cascade Locks.

A few days later, a friend of mine drove me out to get my car in his truck.

I stood staring at my car, my only transportation and the reality of what could have been slammed into my gut. My knees wobbled and if there had been a place to sit nearby, I would have reached for it. Instead I grabbed my friend's arm and held on until the wave of weakness passed.

I had no choice. In order to get my car back to my place I had to steer. We had a towline not a trailer. It was a dicey trip from Cascade Locks to North Portland. We stopped more than once and at the very end had to push my car onto the parking pad behind my house. 

Lessons learned?

Beware when "The Rains" come. Pavement turns to glass.

The concept “Life is fleeting” is a reality, not a myth. 

Some things did die that day (the car totaled, my belief that I was invulnerable destroyed). 

Yet, over forty years later, when I think back on that time, I have no idea how those vehicles stopped in time. I have no idea why I didn’t die.  

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And yet, when I think back on these past forty years, I can see many things I was able to accomplish in my work with vulnerable children and adults. Most recently I wonder if I survived that day so I could tell stories. 

So maybe this is why?                                       

Or This?

Or This?

Book One in The Sacred Women's Circle Series

© 2014 Judith Ashley 

Grandmother Moon

    By Diana McCollum

      I’ve always had a fascination for the Moon. On a full moon, I like to sit on the deck and bathe in the moonlight. Surely the energy from the moon is good for us.  It changes the tides so it is a strong energy. Cavemen drew pictures of the moon on cave walls.  Native Americans have ceremonies only performed during the full moon.  The moon is embedded in their culture. Farmers know to plant and that crops grow faster during a full moon.  women have honored the moon through out the ages.

National Geographic picture

     The moon touches all our lives.

     When I lived in Michigan on a clear winter’s night when the moon was full I’d don my snow boots, mittens and parka, and go for a walk in the moonlight.  It was like fairy light. I could see deep into the woods with no flashlight at all. My kids enjoyed a walk in the snow at night, but most times the Michigan winter was too cold for them and I’d walk by myself. Alone, but not alone because the moon was hanging in the night sky and watched over me.

     Lakes, Oceans and rivers look magical with the moon reflecting  and dancing on the waters. That is why we chose a moon for on the cover of Love & Magick.

     I read Judith Ashley’s story “Grandmother Moon”, published in the anthology “Love & Magick” and I could relate to the excitement Emaline felt waiting for the rise of Grandmother Moon. While I have paid homage to the moon by admiring and enjoying the night filled with moonlight,  Emaline or Em pays homage by drumming.

     This excerpt is part way through the story. Em has bought and moved to a ranch in Fairbault, OR. This is the first full moon since she has moved in.

     For your enjoyment here is a passage from Judith’s story, “Grandmother Moon”.

# # #

                Em shrugged off the blanket and stretched.  Rising, she crossed the room, picked up her horsehide drum, and waited for the moment the moon came into view. Curbing her eagerness to see the full moon for the first time from this house, she radiated expectancy in her stillness. In the city Grandmother Moon’s light is dimmed. Here I can feel the strength of her light.

There She was! Full, bright, shimmering pale yellow ringed with a silvery circle. She started a slow beat mesmerized as the orb crossed the pane. As the moon slipped out of sight, Em increased the beat and moved outside to her deck where she stood, head up and shoulders back. The thrumming of the drum beat reverberated down her spine, through her legs, into her feet and on downward—through the wood of the decking and into the ground. I am so blessed to live in this house, on this land, in this country; so blessed to have the space to drum outside without bothering my neighbors; so blessed to release my feelings in this primal way.

Em held her drum high so it covered the moon and continued to strike the hide, seeing the light of the moon seep around the edges. Standing tall, she continued to drum. The light from Grandmother Moon flowed around her, encasing her in its muted glow as the round orb traced an ancient path across the starlit sky.

# # #

 Thanks for writing this beautiful passage, Judith. 

Do you enjoy going out on a full moon?  Do you howl at the moon? Have you ever Mooned over someone or something? Do you have any Moon memories, myths or anything else to share?