The Mirror

As I stand here in front of the dressing room mirror rehearsing the TED Talk that is my story, my nightmare, and my reality, I realize I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me. I look tired, worn, and a whole lot older than what I did five years ago, before my nightmare and awakening. Before I lost my Chloe, my husband, and the life I was going through but not living. I stare at the scar that runs across my left cheek. It has become my identity and a constant reminder of what I have lost and what I have gained. 

I close my eyes and I am immediately transported back to the scene of the accident. The oncoming headlights blind me as the drunk driver’s car swerves toward me at the last minute. I hear the screeching tires. The deafening sound of metal crushing and glass breaking as our cars collide fills the room. Chloe and I feel the world spin as our car flips over and over and over again. The scent of the car accident and burned rubber is overbearing. I feel sick to my stomach. I can hear Chloe saying, “Mommy, it hurts.” I feel Chloe’s lifeless body in my arms. I feel scared, angry, and completely broken all over again. It has been five years, but the nightmare is just as real today as it was that night. 

I take a deep breath, open my eyes and begin to say, “Life is a precious gift we often take for granted. I was guilty of always running from one thing to the next. Going through my life, but never slowing down to live it. The center of my universe was Chloe. She was six years old and full of life when a drunk driver veered into our lane. Chloe died at the scene of the accident in my arms.” 

I feel accomplished and proud that I have made it through the first few lines without breaking down. It has taken me years to be able to talk to people about what happened that night. My now ex-husband tried to help and support me, but in the end the loss of Chloe was too great for both of us, and our relationship fell apart. He felt guilty for not being there that night and I felt empty inside.

It feels alien to be standing here in front of the mirror preparing for a speech even though I have done this a thousand times before. None of the speeches and presentations I did before this one ever really mattered. Those speeches were a means to an end. This speech reveals my inner thoughts during the lowest time of my life. It divulges my questioning of God and my faith. This speech is a window into my soul and a confession of my short comings as a mother, wife, and human being. I feel a ball building in the pit of my stomach because I’m scared, anxious, and nervous. I have never felt this vulnerable and exposed. I used to be a strong, independent woman in control of my life, but the accident changed everything. It broke me and made me wish I was dead. 

I take another deep breath and continue my speech, “I share my story with you today not because I want your pity, but because I want you to stop and ask yourself if you are going through your life or actually living it. Stop and think. When was the last time you slowed down, stepped back, and just enjoyed a moment? A simple observation of a loved one engaging in something. No criticism or correction to what they are doing. Simply observing to admire them from afar. When was the last time you took a mental picture of a moment and used all your senses to take everything in? Close your eyes and think of a moment. Who was present? Where were you? What did you smell? What did you hear? What did you taste? How did you feel? How long ago was that moment? Was it a few days ago? Weeks? Months? Years? How far back did you have to go to find a memory you could relive with great detail?” I stop to reflect on this question myself. To make sure I am living my life and not just going through it. 

I look back into the mirror and continue, “I know it is not realistic to live our lives in the now, every moment of every day. We have families, we work, we have other pressing matters we have to attend to. I get it. Like I said earlier, I was guilty of going through my life, but never really living it despite having everything I had strived for. I had an amazing attentive husband who I loved dearly, a beautiful daughter, and a great career. I was at the top of my game, but it was not enough. I wanted more and the only way I knew how to achieve it was to live my life going one hundred miles per hour. Never stopping or slowing down to truly take in everything I had been blessed with. Yes, I gave God thanks at church and through my prayers but I never took the time to really take it all in. Again, I tell you my story today not to have you pity me, but to hopefully remind you to stop and smell the roses once in a while. Look around you, take in life’s little moments because you never know when your life will change. It took me losing everything to come to this realization.”

I pause for a moment and look myself right I the eyes as I say, “I suffered a horrible depression after Chloe’s death as is common with a lot of parents who lose a child. I questioned God and his existence. Why would God take my baby from me? The lowest part of my low however, was the realization that I had gone through life with Chloe rather than living it with her. Yes, I had memories of her doing things, but I could not recall a lot of moments from memory where I had just sat back and enjoyed my baby being herself. There was always something that needed to get done.” I pause for a moment to collect myself. I feel emotionally naked and vulnerable.

I take a deep breath and say, “Take the time to live your life. If you don’t, what’s the point of going through it? Tragedies like the loss of my daughter can happen to anyone. They do not discriminate. I have had to come to terms with the loss of my daughter, husband, and life as I knew it. I have had to learn to drag myself out of bed every day. I have had to learn to slow down and take in the little moments.” 

A knock on the door breaks my train of thought, “Five minutes to stage time.” I take one last look around the room and into the mirror. I notice the beautiful bouquet to my left and my tired eyes staring back at me. I take a deep breath and make a mental note of the scent in the room, roses and a hint of my perfume. I hear the audience in a distance settling into their seats. I can feel the nerves in my stomach knotting and my heart begins to beat a little faster. I take one last sip of water, chilled with a hint of lemon before I make my way to the stage.