Island Construction - A Near Miss

Last week, my beau and I were sitting on the couch one day when he quietly, and very seriously, announced that he had almost been killed that morning.

Whaaa?  I gasped, my eyes widened, my heart skipped a few beats and then began to pound.  My mind momentarily dashed to my dear friend who recently lost her husband in a tragic accident.  As he told me the story, my eyes brimmed with tears at the near-miss.

By way of background, extensive construction is taking place on the "ocean ridge" along the eastern side of our island.  Set high above the crashing waters of the open sea, the ridge boasts spectacular, sweeping views as the wind whistles up high.

Using the petty boom on the ocean ridge (photo from last year).

Along this upper area of the ridge, the ocean lies to the east.  Immediately to the west is another cliff with a sharp drop to the lower road where additional homes are built along an interior channel of water.  It was along this cliff's edge that my beau was maneuvering a petty boom that morning.  

The petty boom, the same one pictured above, is heavy construction equipment, weighing some 20,000 pounds.  My beau has years of experience driving this and other equipment, and he keeps safely away from the edges of the ridge.  However, it is a small space in which to maneuver such large equipment.  

And, on this day, the accelerator stuck.

Unable to dislodge the gas pedal from its GO position, my beau and the petty boom rolled toward the cliff's edge.  My beau had seconds to make a decision:  jump out and likely be caught in the heavy machinery as it crashed down the cliff destroying the home below it and injuring anyone in the area, or take his chances to halt the machine altogether.  Choosing the latter, he jammed on the steering wheel as hard as he could, tipping the machine over with the sharp turn.  As glass broke all around him, the cab skidded to a stop just a foot or two from the edge, with the long, weighty boom hanging over the edge.  Just a few inches more and the weight of the boom could have flipped the whole machine off of the cliff - with my beau inside.

I took my camera up to the ridge the next day and will let the photos tell you the rest of the tale . . .

From the lower road, looking up to the ridge where the orange machine lies on its side.

The petty boom, turned over on the ridge.

Up top on the ridge, the turned-over petty boom with its arm hanging off the cliff.

See how close the tire is to the edge?

The heavy arm hanging precariously over the edge.

Ugh.

Double Ugh.

The cab where Beau was sitting when he managed to turn it on its side.

Shattered glass all around the crashed cab.

My heart stops all over again looking at this.

I even thought of you, dear readers, as I took this all in.  How in the world could losing my just-found-again beau be part of my Better Life?!  Well, let's not dwell on the could-have-beens.  He was spared, so I was spared.  All the more reason to appreciate what we have.  You better believe that I gave extra thanks that day for his safety, the safety of his crew, and all of the many blessings in our lives.

About a week later, they used another piece of heavy equipment to somehow hoist the petty boom back into an upright position where they began to work on repairs.  And business goes on as usual.

Looking east, across the airport, to the ocean ridge.

Life Is Precious

I write with a heavy heart today.  

Last year, I had the pleasure of reconnecting with one of my best friends from days gone by, with whom I'd lost touch over the years. She was intrigued by my island story and happy for my happiness, but I was equally pleased that she had such joy in her Stateside life.  Newly into a second marriage, she was madly in love, pregnant with their baby, enjoying her older children and successful in her profession.  Life was great.

Now, the delightful baby is almost 7 months old, and today is my friend's two-year wedding anniversary.  But it is not a happy occasion.  I just learned yesterday afternoon that my friend's husband died in a motorcycle wreck the night before.

Words fail.  My heart aches.  A number of you have experienced the tragic death of a loved one.  I can't even imagine the pain and grief my friend must be experiencing right now.  It feels somewhat ironic to me that I just posted about not being a Pollyanna, having gone through my own dark days, blah, blah, blah.  That just pales in comparison.  I imagine she can only move forward in one minute intervals at the moment, that even 15 minutes feels like too much in his sudden and heart-wrenching absence.

How do you talk about Choosing the Better Life in the face of a situation like my friend's?  Amazingly, she has the strength and Grace to still assert her thankfulness for her children and the good in her life, even in the midst of all this.  As she makes her way down the beginning of this painful path, she reminds her friends to "Please, please, please kiss your loved ones and make EVERY minute count because they are soo precious."

And so I pass her reminder on to you.  Whatever you're experiencing today, it could be worse.  Let's be thankful for what we have.  If you're in the midst of your own crisis, even giving thanks for the shining sun or the comforting love of a pet is a start.  Just hold on, keep breathing, and take it one small step at a time.  Most important, grab your loved ones NOW for a big hug and tell them how much they mean to you!  Make every single moment count.

Last evening, as this was heavy on my mind and in my heart, I turned to see a glorious sunset.  My dear friend, this is for you and your beloved.

The sun is setting, but it will rise again.