Listen to that Little Voice Inside

Sometimes in life you forge a bond with someone that no amount of time, nor distance, can break.  You don’t have to talk to each other every day, nor do you have to see each other even once a year, or once a decade.  You’re connected, by something intangible, something some might even call supernatural.

I am extremely blessed to have a few of these ‘someones’ including Natalie, who I got to know in a very short period of three months, in 1993. Three years older than me, she was the proverbial big sister.

We stayed in touch over the years, writing actual letters to one another, when pen-pals were still a real thing, and then with the advent of Facebook and Skype, we got to share in each other’s’ lives, touching base on the odd occasion.

I watched her evolution from a timid, freckled-faced girl, into a successful, high-powered business person; an independent force to be reckoned with. After a long, tumultuous road, she married Jacob, a bloke she’d met while travelling on business in New Zealand. This year is lucky number thirteen, or maybe not-so-lucky…

Last night I spent the evening on the couch mapping out a few things for a story I’m writing, having renewed motivation after finding my writing tutor’s comment on an “on this day” post on Facebook.  It wasn’t that late, shortly before nine PM, when I received a message from her mum on Messenger, telling me that she thought I’d want to know: Nat, Jacob and Teagan, their ten-year-old, had been travelling home from a weekend away when they had had an accident. From what I can gather it was the result of a tyre issue.  Jacob came out of the wreck with scratches, but Nat is in hospital with pelvic injuries (which have fortunately not caused any internal bleeding) and a broken leg. Teagan is in a medically induced coma to slow down swelling on his brain. I was shaken. Not only because of the obvious shock and reminder (once again) of how precious life is, but from guilt.

For a while I’ve had this inkling to Skype with Nat and thought that if I did go to my parents this weekend, I’d schedule some time with her just to catch up.

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The adage of the best laid plans applies here. I am praying for all of them and reminding myself that she’s a tough broad, that loves life, her ‘boys’, her family and her friends – she has so many reasons to fight for a full- and speedy recovery. When she’s able to, come Hell or High Tide, we’re going to catch up. There is so much to tell her.

I guess what I’m trying to say with this post is that if you hear a little voice in your head telling you to get in touch with someone, whether it is just to say hello or make amends or whatever…heed it, because we never know what tomorrow holds.

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