During a
recent move from one city to another after we sold our house, I lost my car
keys for my Mustang. They disappeared in our new apartment on a Tuesday: or was it a
Wednesday[?], during the first or was it the second week of January. I
did not write down the day. Gratefully, I have two vehicles and even more
gratefully, the car was parked in the apartment lot, not in the street when
this occurred. This was my only key and it was one of those smart keys that
cost up to $300 each to replace. I did
not have the money to replace the keys, so until I did, I decided to drive the
old Mazda truck. It runs great and gets better mileage than the Mustang anyway.
I do not have to tell you which vehicle is more fun and comfortable to drive.
It was now
April. Like the two meandering melodies in a Bach fugue, two weeks ago I had an
unexpected check arrive in the mail.
Plus, I found my emergency stash of cash in a drawer. Between those two
melodic miracles, I had enough money for the keys. I called a locksmith and two
hours later had a shiny brand new key for the discount price of $185. The third
miracle: it was less than $300!
Synchronicity
is an amazing thing. A few days after I had the key made, I was discussing this with John
and explaining to him what a “Happy Accident” was. I reached up on a bookshelf
to show him my first ever raku[1]
fired piece of pottery.
Now potters consider unexpected glaze outcomes of pots,
“Happy Accidents” from the Japanese traditional potters’ lore. At least that
was the lore in the pottery studio in which I used to work. Thus any raku
pottery can be considered a Happy Accident. The result is always unknown, and
most of the time, beautiful.
I picked my handmade pot up from the
bookshelf and discovered my car keys had fallen into the pot. Here’s the
synchronicity: the Happy Accident of finding my keys, inside the Happy
Accident of a beautiful raku pot, occurred while I was explaining what a Happy Accident
is.
It was a magical moment and resulted in a stunned silence from me. I decided “Happy Accident” is the absolute
perfect title for the next parts of the tale of John's recovery.
Since the
tragedy of John’s stroke has long since disappeared for us, we daily view it as
the gift of a Happy Accident. Dear
reader, I hope you’re not stunned by this honest revelation right now. The positive
lessons that have been given to both John and I as a result of his CVA are incredible, and multitudinous. I will share many of these gifts. The gifts are a result of the Happy Accident. It is really about sharing a lot of lemonade with you that has been made
and enjoyed between the two of us through the past twenty-three years. As you
read this blog, my hope is that you will be able to discover the Happy
Accidents in your life as you meet the challenges of living with a brain
damaged or handicapped person. Like a finely crafted Mozart piano sonata, each
Happy Accident has become a part of the gracious melody of our journey.
[1] INTERNET: http://ceramicartsdaily.org/category/firing-techniques/raku-firing-techniques/
2014 Nancy Weckwerth
2014 Nancy Weckwerth