Blink of an Eye

On Easter Monday, the unthinkable happened to my family. We were enjoying a nice visit with my extended family at my mom’s house. My wife was playing a game of British Bulldog (tag), with a bunch of my siblings, cousins, our son and nieces and nephews when she tripped and fell head first into the grass.

What would normally be a harmless fall onto the grass, was far from it. My wife ended up breaking her neck in the fall.

The next 24-hours were some of the most stressful hours of our lives as we waited to get answers and eventually waited for surgery to repair her broken vertebrae.

The outlook was quite positive considering the situation, but the whole ordeal was absolutely terrifying. Our spirits were quite high, because the hope was that she would eventually recover and have (hopefully) minimal, or no life-lasting effects of her very serious injury.

If you were going to put money on which one of us would ever have such a serious injury and you took the possibility of a car accident out of the betting, I would suggest that the odds in Vegas would be about 1000-1 that it would be me lying in the hospital instead of my beautiful wife.

We were pretty afraid leading up to the surgery and once her siblings arrived from Calgary, I went home to catch a little bit of sleep before she was admitted to surgery.
It was at this moment that the weight of the whole ordeal came crashing down onto me. I was extremely tired and overcome with emotion. My mind was racing with the what-ifs. What if the surgery didn’t go well? What if my wife can never walk again? What if there are complications in the surgery that sounds absolutely terrifying and I never see my wife again?
I’m thinking about my 4-year old son, who doesn’t understand that his mom is so hurt that our lives could be changed forever. We need her more than anything and I am visualizing some of my worst fears as the likelihood of them becoming a reality are real and imminent.

But now I want to talk to you briefly about what I wasn’t worried about.

I wasn’t worried about money and how we would be able to live if my wife couldn’t work again. I wasn’t worried about money if the unthinkable happened on the operating table. I was only worried about what matters and that was the health of my wife.

That’s because I know that I took a close look at our finances and found any holes we had in the case of a life-changing event and I placed the appropriate insurance on our health and our lives.

I know insurance is a weird subject and my wife never likes talking about it either, but I am always confident that should anything happen to me or her, we are going to be fine financially and I can certainly tell you that I was happy and am happy knowing that we don’t have to worry about how we will pay our bills.

I’m not here to try and make some huge sales-pitch or make money from this event, but if you have a family. If you need your income to live. If you wouldn’t be able to support yourself or them if you could never work again, or even for a few months. I implore you to at least look at your options.
Insurance doesn’t have to be expensive. Applying isn’t all that scary and if something ever does happen, then at least you can sleep a little more soundly at night if you know that money issues aren’t added onto your real problems and concerns.

If you’re delaying this decision, but know you do need it, then reach out to me, or any agent you trust and look at some options. I would always kick myself if I didn’t at least try to explain how important this is to my family and friends should something happen to one of them.

It’s now Friday and on Tuesday, my wife had a successful surgery. :)
She miraculously came home this morning and all indications are that she is going to make a good recovery. Hopefully it’s a story we can remember as the time we were so close to having a completely different life and nothing more.

Remember how precious life is. Remember to keep your loved ones close and tell them how you feel, because in the blink of an eye, your whole world can change.

Kent Tilley