Chris and I were blessed with two wonderful sons who have remained best friends over the years. I have included in my book His Love Carries Me the story of Chad and “The Accident” in Spain, but I thought you would appreciate the story from his brother’s viewpoint from his blog, which Shane wrote in March 2016 (shared with his permission).
Blessed By Accident
I dream a lot. Some of my dreams are very vivid and stick with me, some are reoccurring, and others fade away from memory before I can even open my eyes. And then there are the nightmares. There are the strange nightmares where for some reason lights won't turn on, the reoccurring nightmares where everything gets stolen from our garage, or I can't run properly (head nod to my impressively slow base-running skills), and then there are the nightmares that terrify me to the core and wake me up in tears. Nearly a month ago, one such nightmare verged on becoming reality.
A week before January drew to its calendar end, I returned home from the gym to see my mom apprehensively rise from her computer chair and slowly walk to face me in the living room.
"Chad's director called. . . ."
In that moment I knew I didn't want to hear what came to follow. Nothing good comes from the team director calling from training camp in Spain, out of the blue.
"The team was hit by a car going the wrong direction."
With my heart in my throat, preparing for that worst nightmare to come true, I waited with baited breath as my mom explained that Chad had sustained some sort of neck injury and was life-flighted from the accident to the nearest hospital. He was stable, but that was all we knew.
I breathed a short sigh of relief before following the expected train of thought. Neck injury? Head-on collision? Would he ever ride again? Would he even be able to walk? How is it possible the guy I was just helping train in the weight room as I watched him make improvements in strength week after week, may have just lost his livelihood? What about his fiancée? How would she be handling all this? What an unfair way to start an engagement. Suddenly, many of the conversations I had had with Chad crossed my mind, and I was confident he was about to walk away from the sport he loves so dearly.
In my experience with cycling, I developed a deep hatred for the sport. Not because I didn't like riding, racing, or anything that goes along with that. No, I hated it because unlike any other sport, you have no choice but to put your life in the hands of other people, daily. People you don't know. People who may hate you simply because they have to slow down. People who expressly believe that you forfeit your right to life because you get in the way on their drive to work. Stay in cycling long enough, and you will have a number of close-call stories to relate to friends on any given day and hear some in return. You just hope they remain that--a close call.
Those first two days after the accident were the toughest. We knew Chad was hurt, but not how badly. We had a picture from the crash site of bikes broken into nearly unrecognizable pieces. Having seen my share of crashes that left people carrying bikes in two pieces, I had a good clue to the devastating impact that had to have taken place. I tried not to think about it.
The new information trickled in throughout the day like molasses dripping from a faulty faucet. Chad did not have his cell phone, if he was even conscious enough to use it. The team was occupied with all six of its injured riders and, therefore, understandably unable to supply regular updates. All the while, my mom, dad, and I were relentlessly updating friends and family with the little information we knew, asking for all the prayers we could get. It wasn't until the end of the night that I realized I hadn't had the chance to sit down and soak it all in. I found myself lying on the couch, trying to go to sleep, avoiding the bed where the nightmares invade.
In the midst of it all, however, God was at work. Miraculously, despite being cut from the base of his neck to his lip, by a car traveling the opposite direction, Chad sustained no head trauma, spinal damage, or damage to the major arteries or tendons in the incredibly critical area of his neck. Chad's friends had already begun to pool money together to pay his fiancée's way to Spain, and as a result she was there at his side when he needed a familiar face the most.
The night of the accident, my parents began to talk to me about the possibility of me flying to Spain to be with Chad. My face lit up, as I have desperately wanted to visit him but never had the finances or opportunity to make it a reality. Now, despite the unfavorable circumstances, maybe it would be possible. Then God pulled through again, as we got contacted by Chad's previous team, offering to fly me over to be with him on their miles. Done!
Thanks to their generosity, I had the opportunity to spend nearly a month with my best friend/brother as he recovered, without having to worry about the cost, or trouble my parents with the flight arrangements.
To help you fully understand what this means for me, I suppose I should back-track just a little bit. As anyone who has spent any measure of time around Chad and me could testify, we are basically the same person. Watching back old home videos, you can see we were sharp-looking pals from the beginning. We have always been best friends by blood, but it wasn't until this past year that we became best friends by choice In the last year, my relationship with my brother has gone from sharing fun experiences, to sharing the deepest secrets of our hearts. He has been a huge support for me as I work through some very difficult personal issues, and we have opened up to one another in a way that has taken us to a level of friendship never touched before.
I am beyond grateful for the changes in our relationship that have come through the last year but filled with regret that it took us so long--through so many years of living together including college years where we slept mere feet from each other--to open up. Now, knowing that Chad would soon be off to get married, I saw that new relationship beginning to slip away. As Chad left for Spain in early January, I had a pretty major breakdown, I'm not ashamed to admit. His fiancée had stayed with our family right up until their flights. Kate is a joy to be around, do not get me wrong, we all love her as family already. But the nightly bro-talks I had grown so fond of were just not possible. So, as Chad flew off to Spain, I sat and thought about the next time I would see him--the wedding. Our relationship as best friends would officially be over the next time I saw him, as I rightfully slipped into second place. I hurt to know that we would never have a time together again, with the same dynamic we have had from day one.
Now cut to February. Despite the horror of the accident, I was given an opportunity to spend time with Chad again, as best friend/brothers one last time. I was given the gift of showing him a fraction of the support and love he has shown me emotionally and financially in the past year as he helped me to pursue my personal dreams. I got to watch him recover and make improvements daily. I got to be his personal chef, making sure he had the food he needed at any moment of the day.
My explorations were basically non-existent, and I admit I failed to really discover Spain, but my trip was not at all lacking. My days generally consisted of making breakfast, going to the gym, grocery shopping, then making lunch, cleaning the apartment, and then making dinner.
Chad quickly returned to riding the bike, yet all of his energy went into whatever ride he was doing, and then in exhaustion, recovering the rest of the day. Had I not taken the time to focus myself on the purpose of my trip beforehand, I would be home now, deeply disappointed. But, because I knew from the start that my purpose was to help Chad first, and be a tourist second, I got infinitely more from my time there. Sure, most of my day was confined to a tiny two-bedroom apartment, slaving in the kitchen, but I was fulfilling my job and showing as much love to my brother as I possibly could.
I got to watch the smile on his face, literally, grow by the day. We got to laugh like the old days, and then laugh harder as Chad held half of his face to keep stitches from popping.
My reward was seeing Chad progress from a crooked shuffle for a walk the day I arrived, to a fully mobile (and already training again!) cyclist once again.
I also got to watch in awe as his faith and sense of humor gave him the most positive attitude in the face of adversity that I have ever seen. If ever I have seen an example of living out James 1:2-4, I saw it there in Spain.
I cannot thank enough the people who made this possible for me. A huge thank you to Rally Cycling for making it happen.
Through it all, I have come to recognize how immeasurably blessed I was by an accident. But it was no accident.
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
- James 1:2-4