Finding Love in a Catastrophe
I didn’t believe in love until my son drove off a cliff.
Romantic love is not only flowers and chocolate, but also death and destruction. What I mean is — love is also how your partner supports you through a catastrophe.
I met David Haas in December of 2017… in my kitchen. He was a guest at one of my “Audrey’s Tent” events for Jewish singles. I saw him cooking at my antique stove looking like a big, buff celebrity chef. He was a 6 foot 4, blond hair, blue-eyed, 100% Jewish (half Israeli) and a PhD physicist. Jewish Jackpot!
This matchmaker got excited! I started setting him up with smart, tall women in my Tent. That didn’t work. He suffered some pretty bad dates.
After he forgave me, I hinted that I’d say yes if he asked me out. He did and we slowly, slowly took our time to get to know each other.
David was the first man I had dated for more more than three months since my divorce in June 2014. Fearing that love doesn’t last and that I shouldn’t depend on anyone, I tried to break up with him multiple times. Each time he patiently waited until I came to my senses and he graciously took me back.
David does all the right things. He brings me flowers every Shabbat and dark chocolate before I know I need it. He makes me coffee in the morning when he’s there, and calls each morning when he’s not. These are acts of love, yet I still didn’t believe in love.
Driving Off a Cliff
One year after we met, on the 7th day of Hanukkah during a heavy rainstorm I got a call at 8:15 am from my 17-year-old son Jonas.
“MOM! I DROVE OFF A CLIFF!,” he screamed between heavy breathing.
The adrenaline rush of a Mama Bear took over. “It’s going to be OK Honey. I love you. I’ll be right there. Hang on and wait for me,” tears were streaming down my face. My body went cold and began to shake.
“Where are you?”He was two miles from home. On the way to school, he hydroplaned in the rain driving down Pershing Drive from Balboa Park. On the sharp curve down the hill, his Ford Taurus spun out, flew over the low guard rail, flipped multiple times and crashed on the drivers’ side at the bottom, 100 feet below.
I didn’t know what had happened to his body or if his internal organs were failing. I told him I was on my way, I’d call 911 and not to move. I started praying and saying the Shema prayer over and over again, praying he wouldn’t die.
I leaped in the car and called 911. They had already heard of the accident from eyewitnesses and were on their way. I called my ex-husband but couldn’t reach him. I then called David.
“Jonas drove off a cliff! I’m on my way to the scene. Can you meet us at the hospital?”
“Of course Audrey. Anything you need.”
When I turned onto Bob Wilson Drive, my heart stopped. I saw two police cars, two ambulances, and two fire trucks. I saw the top of Jonas’ car vertically sticking out of the ground at the bottom of the cliff. I didn’t see Jonas.
I parked, bolted out of my car and ran towards the accident. Two officers came towards me with their palms out.
I screamed, “I’M HIS MOTHER!”
Then miraculously, I see Jonas emerge from the bushes walking towards me. There were no signs of blood. He looked pale and terrified. I embraced him and held him tight. He sobbed in my arms.
“Thank G-d you’re OK. Thank G-d you’re OK,” I sobbed with him.
But I didn’t know if he was OK. I walked him to the ambulance to be evaluated. While he was on the gurney, I walked back to his car and took pictures. The car was destroyed. Jonas had crawled out the shattered back window. It was surreal.
The officer said, “Ma’am, it’s a miracle he survived.” Yes, my Hanukkah miracle.
The paramedics told me he must be checked out at the hospital. When we arrived, David met us with hugs, clothes, and food. Once they put Jonas onto a bed and hooked him to monitors, I finally fell into David’s strong arms.
David never left Jonas and my side — test after test. He was there to take care of us.
He gave us comfort that we were not alone.
Miraculously six hours later we were released. Jonas truly was OK. I kept thanking G-d for Jonas’ life and for David’s support.
But after we left the hospital in the pouring rain, I didn’t know the nightmare had only begun.
Post Traumatic Nightmare
After we got home, we were exhausted but it was getting dark and we had to light the last night of Hanukkah candles. We stood holding each other, our voices cracking as we sang the prayers.
Once Jonas finally laid down to rest, David and I discovered the garage door had been left open all day and the windy rain was soaking everything.
I called Jonas’ Dad to pick him up, I didn’t want him to be alone. Then David and I ran to Home Depot. I was totally lost, but David knew what to do. He bought a wet vacuum cleaner, industrial dryers, and a sump pump to get the water out.
Once we got to my house, David started working on the garage. As that was coming under control, I learned my toilets had backed up.
“Good News,” David said, “Shit storms come in threes, so this is the last disaster!”
Again David came to the rescue. He arranged an emergency plumber to remove the old 75-year-old cast-iron, root-clogged pipes and miraculously replace them whilst it was dark and raining.
The catastrophe was still not over. We had to get to the tow lot to get Jonas’ belongings out of his wrecked car. This was still the same day.
The sky was black and the rain was still thundering down. We got lost, then finally found the junk/tow yard deep in Southeast San Diego. We arrived 30 minutes before they closed and the angry looking woman behind the bulletproof glass did not look happy to see us.
I said, ”Please Ma’am, I’m here to get my son’s things out of his navy Ford Taurus. He drove off a cliff this morning.”
She answered with no expression in a stern voice, “Well, you’re not him so I can’t help you.”
I was ready to scream and attack, and David gently put his hand on my shoulder.
“Audrey, why don’t you show the nice lady the pictures from the accident and the receipt from the hospital with Jonas’ name on it?”
I did and she believed me. Then after she made us wait outside another endless 15 minutes in the pouring rain, we were finally allowed into the fenced lot.
They had used a crane to pull his car out of the ground. I stumbled into the dark lot looking for his car. I saw a heap of metal crumbled like a wad of paper. The reality of the day sunk in. I fell to the ground and sobbed. David led me into a garage to find shelter from the rain. He found a blanket and put it around my wet, cold, shaking shoulders. He then found a crowbar and with brute force, ripped off the doors, crawled over the shattered glass and gathered Jonas’ belongings.
He came back, put his arm around me, and led me out of the lot.
That was a day from Hell. I had to walk through Hell to know love.
I am grateful. I pray that I can be there for David the way he’s there for me.
Since that dreadful day, David has been by my side, through many other chaotic catastrophes and stressful days, big and small. There’s also been many good days of beautiful sunsets, wonderful Shabbat dinners and many happy adventures. Please G-d, may we only know joyful days ahead.
I learned to embrace love through catastrophe, but from now on I’m happy with flowers and chocolate.
