The last thing I remember was passing the Starbucks then the McDonalds with its bright neon lights lighting up the fast-food chain’s parking lot on the corner of Walling Street. We had also walked by the Bugatti’s Italian Restaurant, and later when I reflected back, I recall pondering if we should eat there. Maybe I should have said something to Chris.

But I didn’t. Instead, we continued walking to our original Happy Hour destination, Linn City Pub. We never made it.

Two hours later I woke up on my back looking up at a different kind of neon lights, the bright fluorescent beams of the emergency room at OHSU hospital.

The first words I heard as I looked up were, “Mom, you’ve been in an accident.”

Those words uttered by my son haunt me. I remember after Ryan spoke them, my mind started reeling.

What had happened? How did I get here? What am I doing here? Where is my husband?

“You and Dad were hit by a car.” While walking in a cross walk. By a Suburban.

You don’t get hit by a car, much less a Yukon, and survive.

The next day, my friend Kristi marched into my hospital room with tears in her eyes. “When you Google pedestrians struck by cars, all of the stories that come up are ‘Dead, dead, dead. Cornelia, your kids should have been planning your funeral, but you are here.”

“Angels, that’s all I can say is, angels padded that sidewalk. God provided a way for you to live.”

Psalm 91 verses 11 and 12 remind me: “For he will give his angels charge concerning you  to guard you in all your ways; they will bear you up in their hands, lest you will not strike your foot against a stone.”

[This post is part of the Five Minute Friday link up with the theme this week of “Provide” – This is only my second time with this community. Link here: ]

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