My Guardian Angel Deserves Overtime Pay

Why? Because, after all the near-misses over the course of my childhood and adult life, I still have occasional need of his rescue and safe-keeping.

Very recently, I had one of the flu formats that is going around and mine was heavily punctuated by asthma. Anyone who has experienced asthma knows it is a very mean-spirited malady that visits whenever it has the chance. That it is "the bane of all good singers" was explained to me years ago (of course, making it a blessing as well as a curse)! Uh-huh, right.

During this respiratory onslaught, my angel’s first feat was keeping me alive during the initial night of airways constriction. Fast-forward about $800 and two weeks ... and I was feeling so-o-o much better! I decided to take myself out for a little celebration luncheon – nothing fancy, just something to mark the occasion of my being well again. I went to the nearby Shoney’s, ate, exchanged some pleasant conversation with the server and other staff, paid my tab, and walked out into the afternoon. It was an off-peak time of day for restaurants, so all of the parking spots along the front of the building were empty.

I stepped off the curb and started walking the 20 or so feet to my truck. Seconds later, I saw a car hurtle into the far end of the parking lot and zoom toward me. You guessed it – it aimed directly at me and the parking space I happened to be traversing. It really is fortunate that I saw the car approaching, as the driver never slowed or attempted to avoid hitting me; rather, he came to an abrupt halt just as his car was about to go over the curb and into the front door of the restaurant. Meanwhile, I’d jumped several feet to the side and sort of did a momentary reality check to be sure I’d made it. In those seconds, an assortment of reactions rushed through my mind – including anger, emotional hurt, and some healthy cautionary feelings that told me to keep my silence, as the driver emerged from his car and strutted toward the door. In the space of those few seconds (that seemed to be playing in slow motion), I realized that the most appropriate emotion I should be feeling was appreciation of the fact that I was unhurt.

So I’m quite serious when I commend my ever-vigilant guardian angel (which is why I wrote the song "An Angel At My Shoulder" a few years ago). I’m reminded, anew, how precious is the (literal) breath of life.