I couldn’t believe my eyes as I opened my mailbox. On the top left corner of an envelope addressed to me had a name I hadn’t heard from in years, nor did I have any interest in communicating with him now. It was from my father. 

When I was three years old, he left me and my mother behind and hasn’t contacted either of us since. He simply packed his bags and took all of his belongings with him, leaving my mother and I behind to live on our own. But it didn’t matter now because I no longer considered him to be a part of my family. 

As I walked back inside my house, I decided not to open the envelope. I didn’t care what he had to say and I refused to forgive him for leaving me. I would simply throw it away. 

But as I neared my trash can, I couldn’t bring myself to toss it in. Instead, I laid it on my bedside table, feeling guilty, and flopped onto my bedspread.

I picked up my favorite book, opening it to where I left off. But just as I began reading, my bed began to shake. Bewildered, I looked to my left, which was where my water glass sat from the night before, and saw the water inside the glass trembling. My first thought was that there was construction going on or a large truck was passing by. But the rumbling continued, and it was then that I realized it was the beginning of an earthquake.

I lunged for the thickest pillow on my bed and covered both my neck and head with it. From there, I attempted to calm myself down, inhaling oxygen on counts of three. 

But just as I felt my heart rate steadily decline and my ability to rationalize return, I felt a crushing sensation squeeze the breath out of my lungs. The crashing sound of falling cement echoed in my ears. I felt a crack in my ribs, a sharp pain immediately following. Gasping for air, I heard the faint scream of my mother calling my name, but I was unable to respond. Her voice became fainter until I could only hear a single high-pitched ringing. Buried underneath an unbearable amount of debris from the earthquake, my vision went dark. 

****

I awoke to a faint beeping, my eyesight slowly returning. I looked to my left and saw a heart monitor beeping at a constant rate. To my right was a baby blue curtain separating my bed from the doorway. I was no longer at home in my bed being crushed by debris during an earthquake, but rather lying safely in a hospital bed. 

A few moments later, a nurse walked into my room accompanied by two other doctors. I attempted to move but a sharp pain shot up my right leg, which was covered in gauzes and wrapped in bandages, and my ribs ached. The nurse immediately rushed to my bedside, preventing me from moving again. 

The first doctor told me, “Carol, while you may feel much pain right now, you will recover completely.”

The second doctor added, “You were crushed by falling debris and passed out during one of the worst earthquakes California has seen in years. We have seen many patients here that were greatly affected by this earthquake and have numerous serious injuries to cope with.”

The first doctor then replied with, “But due to the fact that you acted as soon as you felt a rumble, you will only suffer from injuries such as scrapes, cuts, and bruises along with a broken rib. You have ten stitches in your right calf which is the reason you may be in pain, but you will come to a full recovery soon enough. Your rib will take about six weeks to heal, so you will need to stay away from heavy labor or any physical exertion for a bit.”

“How long will I have to be in the hospital?” I asked.

“You will need to stay for only a couple more nights so we can monitor you and frequently check and clean your cuts. Your stitches will be taken out in two weeks so you will have to come back to the hospital to have them removed. We will need to X-Ray your rib in about two weeks as well.” replied the second doctor in a reassuring tone. “But you will come to a full recover soon enough.”

After the nurse and the doctors left my room, once they were reassured I was alright, my mother walked in carrying some sort of slip of paper. She sat down in the velvet chair next to my bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m so grateful that you are alright. For the past few hours I have been worried sick as to what might happen to you. I love you so much.”

“Thanks mom. I love you too.” 

“During the earthquake, I screamed for you, searching and scanning the entire house for any sign that you were okay. After the third time of calling your name and getting no response in return, all I could do was hope you were alright. When I finally found you buried on your bed under all that rubble, I almost collapsed in fear as to what could’ve happened to you.” With tears streaming down her face, my mother continued, “I called the ambulance and as they were digging you out from underneath the concrete, they explained to me how lucky you were to be alive. They said that if you didn’t take action by covering your head and neck with a pillow, you would have been dead.”

“I’m okay mom, you don’t have to worry any longer.” I whispered, attempting to reassure her that everything was alright.

With a weak smile, she gently patted my hand, “I know honey, but in that brief time I felt just a fraction of the pain of losing a child.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion.

“This was sticking out of the debris on your bedroom floor. I saw that it was from your father. I realized that you may not feel as though he deserves any of your love and you may want to just toss this envelope away and act like you never received it, but I think it is worth just reading it. Even if you’re not ready to forgive him for what he did, I think we both should at least hear what he has to say.”

“I’ll think about it” I mumble.

“Okay, well I’m going to let you get some rest. Feel better honey, I love you” replied my mother, slipping the envelope into my hands. 

“Love you too.”

For the next hour, all I could think about was the letter. After all, this man was my biological father, but he left me on his own account. He could’ve stayed and figured out whatever he was going through that caused him to leave but he didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to be able to forgive this man, but I knew the right thing to do was to give him a second chance. I knew that I should hear him out, even if I wasn’t ready to forgive him now. These are the steps I have to take to maybe understand him better in the future. After all, I realized today how your life could end in only a single moment. 

I gently tore open the top of the envelope, my heart racing. I then slipped out a piece of folded up paper. I knew that whatever I was about to read would change my life. 

I unfolded the piece of paper, and began reading, tears welling in my eyes. I knew I had made the right decision as soon as I began the first sentence. 

That day I realized that everyone deserves second chances. If they are willing to make the effort to change and have meaning and sincerity behind their apology, they should at least be listened to. 

My father had made the effort to reach out to me, understanding that I may not be ready to forgive him yet, and wanted to let me know that he regrets his actions and would like to meet up sometime to talk. While I’m not ready to forgive him now, I know in the future we will be able to come to a mutual understanding. 

Second chances can not only change your life for the better, but also positively affect the person you’re giving the second chance to. They are a way to rekindle a relationship that seemed to be lost.