Child's Play, The Citizen, January
2019 Facing Death
Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.
As soon as the sheet of metal roofing hit the back of my leg
I knew I was in trouble. Working on my
timber farm, I was repairing a roof when the piece of metal slipped and slashed
across my calf. I looked down knowing
what I would see.
My left leg was severed nearly in half and blood was gushing
from the wound. I sat down, stripped off
my sweatshirt, and wrapped the fragments of my leg as tightly as I could. Even though this only took a matter of a few
seconds, the ground beneath me was already a pool of red.
I dug my cell phone from my pocket, called 911, and
explained the situation and my location far from any main road. The operator said someone was on the way and
hung up. After that, the wind through
the trees and my breathing were the only sounds I could hear. I knew it would be a while before anyone
could find me so far from anywhere. I
watched the flow of red soaking through the make-shift tourniquet wondering if
I was bleeding to death and tightened it even harder.
For those first few minutes, I wondered if I would
survive. Maybe this is it, I
thought. But it wasn't like you might
think. I was surprised at how calm and
at peace I was.
At first I thought I have so much I still want to do, but
immediately, I realized there would never be a day when I didn't think that
way. Almost with a shrug, I was thinking
that everyone has to die sometime. And
even though I hadn't planned on it being that day, I supposed it was as good as
any. Huh. The end.
Strangely peaceful.
Many times over the years I've written in this column about
my hopes and dreams. I've chronicled my
own parenting challenges and shared with you my longings to be a good father
and a good person.
In more recent years I've written about things I'd do
differently if given the chance and to my readership I've exposed my failings
in one arena or another.
But sitting there for almost an hour on the cold, muddy
ground, gray skies above me and misty rain beginning to fall, I was at
peace. I called my wife to say goodbye,
but there was no answer. So, cold as it
may seem, a voice message had to do.
My life didn't flash before my eyes and there was no remorse
other than knowing my family would be devastated. Despite the intense pain, I was totally lucid
- no shock or dizziness. I monitored my
breathing, sensed my blood pressure, checked my toes for movement and
sensation, and listened to the wind.
I love the outdoors and if that had been my last day, it would
have been OK. I would have died in a
place that I love and I knew I had done all I could to save myself. The rest was up to fate.
But the point of this story isn't to milk your emotions or
to create cheap melodrama. The point is
that I'm not only grateful I have another chance at life, but I'm so grateful I
didn't find myself facing death with sadness and regrets. I've lived a good life, and I know my
existence has made a difference in people's lives.
Thousands of students, thousands of readers, and hundreds
audiences and clients have been influenced by my work. I think overall I have left the world a
better place than when I arrived in it, and maybe that is what it is all about. I'm OK with who I have become and how I have
spent my days. Throughout this painful
event, that fact has brought me solace, and maybe that is as good as it gets.
Obviously, I didn't bleed to death. Beyond that, I didn't lose my leg. Long months of recovery are still ahead of
me, but gratefully, walking again is in my future.
Knowing our defects and failings, many of us
struggle to live ith ourselves. I suppose what I'm hoping for is
that you too can find a place where you are OK with the end, no matter
how many years away that might be. I was tested by facing death
and it has shown me that I can live with myself. No "what if's"
or "if only's." Of all my accomplishments in life, that kind of
peace may be the most significant.
Back to Column Home Page