Life Lesson

The Wake-Up Call That Changed This Person’s Life

Turning 30 seemed as if life was over, until it almost was

Most of us have an age in mind where we think we’re “over the hill.” For me, it was 30. The age I feared reaching until an unforeseen circumstance scared me into having a new point of view.

As a child, I was anxious to grow up so I could drive, leave home, get married, and have kids. I always seemed to be waiting for something, but my life didn’t quite go as planned. By the time I was in my late 20s I was divorced, raising a child on my own as my ex seemed to take off for parts unknown never to be heard from again, and I had a job that did not pay well.

My apartment was small and attached to a luncheonette which caused continual backups of beans and coffee grounds and whatever else they were throwing down their garbage disposal.

It was a cute apartment, but my son and I needed more.

We needed more space and a new life — I needed a better job, and a good relationship or husband. I was lonely, young, and scared.

So many things were so wrong with my life at that point including having family members estranged and a car that always needed fixing.

Coming up on the big one

And now I was coming up on my 30th birthday. Depression doesn’t even begin to cover it. I was miserable. Thirty was a turning point for me. I was no longer in that desirable age group for finding a husband. I heard that once you hit a certain age the pool of available men gets smaller.

Not only that, I had no real career and no way to possibly afford college to improve my life, as well as barely making ends meet as it was.

But the highlight in my life was: I had a son to raise, a good friend named Lora, and my apartment was as cozy as I could make it as I’d redone the flooring, painted walls, “flocked” my bedroom, and bought some new furniture on layaway.

But — 30 years old — what a bad day I was going to have — going through the motions at work, feeling old amongst the new, younger workers, and coming to terms with no longer being in my twenties — a discernible turning point for me.

Invitation to go out

Later that evening my friend Lora asked if I wanted to go out for my birthday. My first response was, “No, I’m not in the mood.” I felt I should just stay home and be miserable by myself.

She insisted and told me her mom would watch both my son and her daughter for a few hours if I could drop him off.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go out for a while.”

Once the decision was made, I packed up my son and brought him to Lora’s apartment about 5 minutes away, left him with Lora’s mom and daughter, then Lora and I left in my car for a destination yet undetermined.

The evening could have gone in so many directions, but luck or fate chose it for us.

I was all for finding a place to dance but not drink because I never drank. She was all for driving to the bookstore, one of her favorite haunts, as she didn’t drink, either.

I didn’t care. I’m 30 years old, and this is the end of my fun years, wherever she wants to go is fine with me, she’s still in her 20s!

The only good bookstore we knew of and frequented was Barnes and Noble which was about half an hour away.

Fine, let’s go find some juicy books to make me feel even less sexy, old, and inadequate.

The drive to the bookstore meant driving on a four-lane highway with two lanes on our side and two on the other. It was a large, intimidating highway but one I was familiar with although I never cared for night driving and it was already about 8:30 by this time and dark.

As we were approaching a particularly dark stretch, from the corner of my eye, I saw a man and a dog come off the shoulder to my right and step into the lane I was in.

My instincts were to immediately swerve to the left to avoid him, not thinking that a car or truck could have been in the left lane and would have smacked right into me.

I managed to avoid the man and his dog without being hit myself, pulled back into the right lane, and then onto the shoulder to evaluate the situation.

I looked back to see the guy still walking across the other side of the highway, seemingly oblivious to what just happened. He somehow made it to the other side safely.

He was obviously blind, but the dog?

I don’t know who was luckier that night — the man with the dog or me and Lora. And how on earth did that dog manage to drag him across the street into traffic? Had they done this before? Did he realize his dog seems to have no sense of highway safety? This is a question I never could figure out.

A wake-up call

The point is — I was 30 years old that day — and it could have been my last day. It was some kind of omen or wake-up call.

That was a life-changing night for me — and Lora — we both screamed when I swerved, then cried realizing the impact of what had occurred.

I felt I had been spared for some reason and stopped complaining after that about aging.

Each year when I’m coming up on another birthday I remember that night and think of birthdays as a milestone and not a curse. It reminds me to appreciate the time that was given back to me and to use it as wisely as I am capable of.