It's a repost, but it's a good one.

Sorry I didn't post last week. This week is finals, and I haven't found time for it. In fact, this week I'm posting something I wrote a year ago. A year ago today I was in a pretty serious car accident, and miraculously nobody was hurt. Shortly after the accident, I posted this to my facebook:

For those of you who don't know me as well, I work at one of Colorado's "historic" mountain casinos, The Lodge (built in 1998). It's not THAT far into the mountains (20 miles from Golden, Denver's Westernmost suburb) but it is three thousand feet higher and most of the roads that take you there are windy canyon roads.

On Saturday it snowed all night. I carpool with two other people and we work until close (2 am). The first major snow of the year always freaks people out and inevitably the main canyon road, highways 6 and 119, closes due to accidents. Often it closes during every snow. Sure enough, on Saturday night there was a fatality that closed the canyon for several hours. This being a Saturday night, the "back-up" way home was backed up all the way into Black Hawk. There's a third way, Golden Gate Canyon Road, that most customers don't know about. It's used primarily by employees and primarily in weather like we had on Saturday. So I put the Montero in 4WD and had at it.

Golden Gate Canyon Road is safe. It's windier than 6/119 and sees a lot fewer plows, but I've gone that way at least a dozen times in weather far worse. It's never been a problem in the past. It wasn't a problem most of the way down on Saturday. There were four or five cars (including mine) in a little line of traffic. I was second behind an enormous pickup truck. We were three miles from the mouth of the canyon (i.e., almost home) and at that point my car hadn't even slipped or slid the entire time. But on a little patch of ice as we came around what was just a slight bend, my car started to spin out.

I never was very good at getting out of a spin. I tried, but quickly realized I wasn't going to be able to do anything but make it worse. I took my feet off the pedals and threw up a quick Carrie Underwood-style "Jesus, take the wheel." (Okay, what I actually said was more like, "Oh, shit," but same idea.) We drifted right as our back end spun around until we went off the road and down a moderate embankment into a ditch. If I had to guess, I'd say we went down 10 to 15 feet. We also rolled over all the way and then another quarter turn and came to rest on the driver's side in a wide, flat ditch. There was a lot of glass everywhere.

My first thought, with my elbow in the snow, was, 'I think I'm actually OK.' From the back seat, Brett asked if everyone was. Aside from the fact that she was hanging from her seatbelt, Melissa was, too. "Hey Dorn," Brett suggested, "Can you turn off the engine?" Even after all that, the car was still running. Melissa managed to open the door with her feet, and Brett had all the room in the world to stand up, so they quickly climbed out of the car. At that point a lot of cars had stopped and people - some I knew, some I didn't - were helping us out and down safely to the ground. Someone threw down a rope and we climbed out of the ditch. Two cars of coworkers who had stopped gave us rides home. In the end, I had a scratch on my wrist and two on my nose. Melissa had a bruise and a scratch across her abdomen. We were all a little sore in the neck and shoulders. But we all walked out of there, and if you've seen the pictures you know how big a miracle that is.

I don't know, and probably never will know, what caused us to lose control like that. I don't know how I had the serenity to let go and enjoy the ride, as it were. There wasn't really any panic in my thought process, and the rolling was actually a little fun. What I've had the most trouble with, though, is the hand of God on the car that night. Just about any other spot on that road leads to a solid wall of trees or a much deeper drop-off or both. If Melissa hadn't been wearing her seat belt, we'd had carried her up the embankment. We even had cars directly behind and in front of us, and most of the people who stopped were coworkers. I kept a small piece of glass (there were plenty) from my window. It's a reminder of the night that God decided Xander still needed a daddy.

Don't take your lives for granted. Buckle your seat belts. Keep your eyes on the road. Thank God every day you wake up for another chance to be with the ones you love. This Christmas, give big hugs to your family. You never know when you might lose them.