February 14, 2008 was a day that forever changed my life and my children’s lives. You can read all about that day, all that ensued after that event and how we managed with God’s help to recover from that tragedy in my book, When All Dreams are Gone.
After we picked up our lives and began rebuilding in what I refer to as “the new normal”, we had an amazing year. Our first order of business was completing the remodel that we were in when my husband died. Although it was a bit stressful having to make all the decisions, it was also nice not having to get anyone’s approval on things.
In April we went to our annual homeschool conference. Stephen had purchased a 38’ class A motorcoach several years prior when he was working in New York City. The idea being it was cheaper to own than paying rent on an apartment and we could use it for vacations. Due ot the economy, we were not able to sell it after he left New York. Stephen never let me drive the RV. The kids wanted to go to our homeschool conference so I decided it was time to learn to drive the RV. I was fortunate to know Stephen’s friend’s father who was a truck driver and had taught at a truck driving school. I called him up and asked if he could teach me. He agreed. We met one afternoon and he put me behind the wheel after giving me about a 10 minute lesson of him driving and explaining what I needed to do. I think my entire lesson was about 15 minutes of me driving through the city. Fortunately Big Sandy was only a 2 ½ hour drive from our home. So in April, we packed up the RV and headed out. I decided at that moment that if we were going to do this, God needed to be with us. We began by having every one pray for our trip.
I was extremely nervous driving through Dallas, but I made it through the traffic and onto the major freeway and towing our Jeep Commander behind us. When we made it to the small country highway I was doing fine until I saw in front of me a narrow bridge with no room for error and realized that the semi truck coming the other way was going to pass us on the bridge. By the time I realized this it was too late for me to adjust my speed. I told the kids to hang on…I grabbed the wheel tight, prayed and screamed “ahhhhhhhhhh” until we got to the other side of the bridge. To my surprise I didn’t hit the truck or the guardrail of the bridge. WHEW.
To read more of this story you can check out my second book called Redefining Normal.
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