Fifteen years ago this evening, I stepped on a wine glass underneath a Chuppah to celebrate the best decision I’ve ever made, to marry Pam and begin a life together that I can only describe as a fairytale. A year ago today, we came within 24 inches of the end of our road together (both literally and figuratively). Let me explain.
We spent last summer in Southeast Asia & Africa doing some volunteer work with our children. On July 6th, we finished the last day of helping local teachers and students to build a school room in a rural mountain town outside of Luang Prabang, Laos. After our last day of work, we were surprised when the teachers brought us into one of the classrooms and honored my family with an incredibly powerful prayer ceremony to thank us for our work and wish us safe travels, followed by what can only be described as an enormous feast of local fare.
As long as I live, I’ll never forget the ceremony. The temperature outside the concrete classroom was well over 100 with what felt like absolute humidity. The small classroom literally felt like a steam bath. There was a small tower in the middle of the floor draped in white strings and incense. There were about 30 of us in the room and we were asked to kneel and everyone in the room had to be touching. The elder religious leader (The predominant religion in Laos is a blend of Buddhism & Animism) began to chant and then each one of the teachers and villagers took turns taking a white strand off the centerpiece and tying them onto our wrists. It was a powerful and memorable experience for all of us.
During the ensuing (and mouth-watering) meal, we asked about the many white strands now tied to our wrists. We were told that they were there to protect us during the remainder of our travels, and that we needed to wear them for seven more days for their prayers for our safety to be answered.
We left the village and stopped by a local waterfall to cool off with a swim before heading to town and the next part of our journey. Our chariot for the week was a Jeep with no doors (and only two front seats) that I’m quite sure was old enough to have seen significant action in the Vietnam war, driven by our friend (and project coordinator) Yai. The journey back to town was about 30 miles of a twisting two-lane road through heavy jungle. Pam was in the passenger seat with our son asleep in her lap and my daughter and I were laying down on the floor in the back of the Jeep.
As we came around a particularly sharp bend, I remember hearing Pam yell “he’s lost the steering.” I looked up to see the Jeep begin drifting into the left lane towards the far side of the road. Having given up on the steering wheel, Yai was now furiously pumping the brakes but to no avail, he had lost both the steering and the brakes. Miraculously, with one final mighty jump on the brakes, the Jeep came to rest with its nose resting just before an embankment. What we didn’t know until we got out of the Jeep was that had we gone another two feet, the Jeep would have tumbled down a 40 foot cliff into a river. Given that it was an open Jeep with no doors, rear seats or seatbelts, it was obvious to us what the outcome would have been.
After the initial shock wore off, we quickly realized what we were wearing and to this day, Pam and I believe that someone or something was watching over us that fateful day, July 6th, 2010. We all agreed that evening that we’d wear our prayer bracelets for the remaining two months of our journey and now have them safely tucked away here in our home. The rest of our trip passed by without the slightest incident and we’ll forever be grateful to those teachers in Laos who gave us so much more than they’ll ever know.
So that’s why today is Fourteen plus one for me. Each year with Pam and our kids feels like a bonus to me now. How we’re still here to tell this story I’m not sure, but for the last year (more than ever) I’ve tried to live my life like each day might be my last. I hope that when I’m old and gray, I’ll still be telling the story of our how we celebrated our anniversary in 2010, cheating death and learning to cherish every day together. Happy fifteenth anniversary Pam, our adventure continues!