Nine Lives
There is an old wives’ tale (I think that’s what it is!) that a cat has nine lives. I have two cats, so this means that there are eighteen opportunities for either one of them to meet their maker. I don’t think the premiums for their pet insurance allow for this, though, when I made the point to them. I don’t think the same can be said of dogs, and our golden retriever might want to trade a couple of lives of her feline frenemies, but she has nothing to give in return, except for a round-the-clock invitation to play. The cats are washing their hair every time…..
The idea of cats having nine lives hasn’t woken me from sleep or prompted me to test the theory (RSPCA, anyone?), but something happened last week that sparked an internal dialogue about near-death experiences, the afterlife, and whether humans have more than one life. Alternatively, like in Final Destination, we might be stalked by death until we expire, should we dare to cheat its design.
Travelling back from the City Centre with my daughter, in my Toyota Auris roller skate (the one litre engine is the smallest I’ve driven) I was in the right-hand lane overtaking a lorry, when ahead on the inside lane was a van with two ladders attached to the roof rack; at first. . . . . What felt like slow motion (but was most certainly not) came one of the ladders, catapulted through air, towards my car. I don’t think I reacted, except to watch on, my mind blank for once (this was a good opportunity to meditate). I do remember thinking, as the apparatus flew, that on this occasion, walking under the ladder was probably safer than being hit head-on by one at 70 miles an hour.
My daughter and I can now confirm that we have at least two lives, since the ladder avoided our path, and briefly encountered the lorry I overtook, before it clipped and swung into the hard shoulder. I would say that everyone travelling on that stretch of road had at least two lives in those moments because there were no collisions and everyone remained alive; in those moments at least.
We often hear phrases like, “this was obviously not my time,” or “when your number’s up, it’s up.” I have no strong opinion either way, but on reflection, the ladder incident reminded me that I have cheated death more than once. I remember waking one morning around the age of 15, experiencing the start of an asthma attack (I suffered from this condition throughout my childhood). In my haste to relieve the chest tightness and audible wheeze, I took the inhaler, which I always kept under my pillow, and inhaled a deep, fast lungful of Ventolin. Then I realised the lid was still on. I don’t know how I didn’t asphyxiate. I somehow managed to cough up the lodged plastic lid and quietly counted my blessings (do we get nine of these?).
There was another lucky escape from the grasp of the Grim Reaper while holidaying in Pensacola, Spain, at the age of thirteen. I was swimming in the sea, enjoying the glorious sun and the sensation of the waves against my skin. Suddenly, as I tried to find the sand beneath my feet, there was none! While I struggled to swim back to the shore, enormous waves began to engulf me, pulling me relentlessly back to sea. I have never fought so hard to stay afloat and swim to safety. Obviously, I survived.
On that same holiday, my family and I (two siblings and mother) got stuck in a lift twelve floors up, the carriage hovering halfway between the eleventh and twelfth floor. On ringing the alarm, the technician only spoke Spanish, and the fear was almost as suffocating as the fight with the waves earlier in the holiday. Now, if I had those ladders from last week, I could have climbed my way out of that lift! But as fate would have it, one of my “lives” rescued me and my family back to the safe but dizzy heights of our apartment.
I wonder if I am lucky, or if I am a cheat? How many times can we win against fate? Were any of these experiences destined as my “get out of life” cards? Have I got more work to do in this life!? If so, I’d better get cracking, I’m already half a century away from receiving a telegram from the King, who by that point might be King George! The saying is true that we never know how much time we have left, and tomorrow is not promised. As I always express in this blog and others, we only have right now, this moment and the future is all here, now. Who knows how many sunrises we have, or how many seasons we will witness? So cherish each day as best you can, life can be a game of chess, and so far, I have checkmated my grim reaper.
