Divine Intervention
I don’t believe that things happen for a reason. I do believe that the universe sometimes moves in magical and tragic ways, and as a result, things just happen. Like today, en route to Rochester, after getting the official diagnosis of my mother’s cancer.
My oldest brother, Michael Hildebrandt, was driving, turning onto the on-ramp off of Victory Drive and toward 14 E. Kim is in the front seat, and Gretchen and I are in the back seats of his extended cab.
As Mike moves upward on the ramp, he spots a car deep in a ditch to our left and pulls over to ask the driver if he is okay and needs help. The young man, probably in his 20’s, tells us what happened: another car hit their brakes as he was behind them and he tried to stop, over-corrected, hit some ice and landed in the ditch. He is far down and he needs a tow to get out of there. His phone is dead and Mike offers him his phone so he can call AAA.
Mike invites him into the back seat, where Gretchen and I are sitting; I’m puffy in the face from sobbing. My heart hurts. All of our hearts hurt.
He says he’s so thankful and calls Mike mister often. I tell him we’re on our way to Rochester to be with our mom, who just was diagnosed with cancer, and this is something she would want us to do, would do herself. He said he was down there for 30 minutes and so many cars drove by and didn’t stop. He's very thankful we did.
He also tells us his mother, now retired, once was a forensic psychiatrist at Mayo Clinic. My brother tells the young man he’s in the mental health field, too, in Mankato, and is the coordinator for the Second Step Clubhouse. The young man asks if he knows a particular psychiatrist—divulges it’s his own, and Mike says he knows this man and respects him deeply.
This connection leads to a beautiful conversation of this young man wanting mental health outreach, connection, and services. Mike happens to have one business card on his person and gives it to him and tells him to contact him, since he lives in Blue Earth County. He tells this young man he’ll be in the next day and to come down for a tour of the Clubhouse, and fill out an application.
This young man calls us (I should say Mike) his angels and he awaits in the warmth of the vehicle till the tow truck arrives. He thanks Mike profusely, says he’ll call him, and hustles on his way to meet the tow truck. We drive off to be with our mom and sister Jennifer.
My mom believes in the universe’s magnetic pull, connections, and how we all are in this together, as do I. While this moment didn’t happen for a reason, perhaps, it did happen, and I feel it was the divine intervention we all needed—my family and that young man—right then and there.
