Just over three weeks ago, a very sharp piece of glass stabbed into my left foot on the side of Richmond’s River Road. This has become perhaps the most fascinating single story of all my 4,500 miles. Here’s what happened:
On my way into Richmond, I’d heard the story of a young lady who last summer had been the victim of a tragic hit-and-run incident on Richmond’s River Road. She was on her way home from work shortly after dark, was following all the rules of the road, and was adorned with multiple blinking bicycle lights. Sadly, she did not survive the incident.
I’d heard her story, yet didn’t even know her name. Nonetheless, I detected a very powerful sensation upon reaching her white bicycle (“ghost bike”) memorial on River Road, and I stopped to meditate for several minutes. Through the concluding minutes of the meditation, I felt a very powerful energy flowing through me. A very bright, wordless message told me to be strong, be prepared for what will continue to unfold of this life (challenges and all), and with every experience, to do my part to create a better, brighter world for all. (In addition to all others, I too have 100% of the potential to do all of the above.) This was a message for me– but not only me– it is a message for you too.
After several minutes of clutching the handlebars, eyes closed, I stepped back behind the ghost bike, bowed in divine gratitude and strength, turned forward, bowed to the road ahead, and then– fully energized– strongly stepped forward. I didn’t even make it seven steps before feeling the sensation of some sharp, earth-residing object stabbing deeply into my left foot. Before looking, I was hoping that it had felt scarier than it would appear, but as soon as I looked down, I found a deep laceration, foot and sandal full of blood. An empty, partially shattered glass vase was resting near the bike, and I hadn’t seen it before feeling it.
I stepped off to the side of the road, sat down on the earth, assessed the wound, applied pressure, and telephoned Chris & Sally, who were hosting me over Cinco de Mayo weekend. Chris came out immediately and took me to a nearby hospital, where I ended up spending hours in the E.R., leaving only after receiving a grand total of seven stitches.
Though happy satisfaction isn’t the first emotion I felt upon first seeing my blood-soaked foot, I’ve been forced to overcome so many unforeseen hurdles across the thousands of miles, that I knew this would simply be one more. And as has been the case with all of life’s challenges, as Rumi writes: “the wound is the place the light enters.”
Sitting in the hospital E.R. that afternoon, awaiting my stitches, I felt the urge to learn more about the young bicyclist who’d lost her life. What was her name? What was the story? Who was her family? What was the follow-up?
Getting busy on Google, I learned the story of Lanie Kruszewski, age 24, who lost her life on the evening of Sunday, July 29, 2012, while bicycling home from her restaurant job. The driver initially fled the scene, yet was later identified, tried and convicted by a jury, and is awaiting a probable three-year sentence for felony hit and run. Friends & community have come to strongly support the Kruszewski Family in the wake of this tragedy. I found a website created by her Uncle Tim, with over a dozen pics. I found pics of Lanie, her mother, and her two older sisters. And, most compelling, I found a column written last November by her mother, Patty, as the family was preparing for the coming holidays without their youngest.
Here’s the final portion of Patty K’s column, “A time to give thanks – no joke” (full link below):
“…A JMU student I have never met recently wrote to say that the campaign to improve cyclist safety has reached all the way to Harrisonburg – and to suggest that Lanie’s death may have already saved other lives.
The list of kindnesses goes on, and on, and on.
In no way do I mean to downplay the pain and devastation this tragedy has wrought upon our family, or to deny that there are times I despair of surviving another day in the void Lanie left – or another night of accident images playing non-stop through my head. Her death can never be regarded as anything other than a horrible waste of a life, and any good that may result can only make it slightly less of a waste.
But I have been in this crazy cycle of grief long enough to know now that my worst nights are invariably followed by better days, new encounters, new kindnesses and new blessings.
Like any parent, I would have given anything for the choice to take Lanie’s place on that bike, and to allow her to live her life to its natural end.
I didn’t get that choice. But there are other equally unchosen paths that I would have taken right to the place I am now.
If someone had asked me long ago whether I would choose to be Lanie’s mom – knowing she would only live 24 years, and that I would have to go through this terrible, wrenching pain – my answer would be, “Hell, yes.”
And if I’d been given the choice to have Lanie for 24 years, or to have someone else for a lifetime, I would have chosen Lanie in a heartbeat.
And for the gift of those years, I can’t help but be thankful.”
(full column: http://www.henricocitizen.com/index.php/Opinions/article/a_time_to_give_thanks_no_joke1118 )
The words of Lanie’s mother, Patty Kruszewski, really spiritually resonated with me. I had to write to her. A few short days later, I spent a couple of hours carefully creating the introductory message I wanted to Patty Kruszewski, and she responded to me within hours.
A handful of days later, I met Patty Kruszewski, in addition to Leah & Jackie, Lanie’s sisters, and Daniel, Lanie’s boyfriend. I spent half the day with them.
I asked them if they’d like to join me from Lanie’s ghost bike memorial, and walk a few miles with me, once my foot was ready to do so. Patty, Daniel, and Leah were all available to do so, and joined me this Memorial Day weekend for seven sunny miles from Lanie’s ghost bike, walking up into Henrico County. I devoted the day’s walk to bicyclist & pedestrian safety, paying homage to Lanie’s enduring spirit across our steps.
I’ve come to spend plenty of time with Patty these past couple of weeks, even accepting her kind hosting offer these past five nights, in the home where the Kruszewski children grew up.
“Lanie bit you,” Patty K tells me, as I acknowledge that we were meant to meet. A big part of me would like to spend several more weeks with Patty & family before departing from Richmond.
As I prepare to slowly sew up these final mile hundred miles to Washington, D.C., I couldn’t be more touched at the magic of the amazing new friendships with Patty, Daniel, Leah & Jackie… I’m not sure just how soon, but our paths will be crossing again ~
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