The sun battled the crisp February air, but Will still felt the chill of the morning. He threw his bag into the back of his truck. So this was it. He was being kicked out of his own home. Life had punched him in the mouth once again.
He grabbed a bag of chips from his front seat and chuckled, “At least I have snacks for my pity party.” Suzanne had gotten tired of his dreams. She wanted something he couldn’t give her — security. After 14 years of marriage, things had just fallen apart. A dog barking — his dog — woke him out of his thoughts. He started the truck and watched his life disappear.
It had been that kind of year for Will. First he had lost his job Then he had lost his parents. Now his wife. It was a hat trick from hell. He had considered turning to the bottle, but the bottle was a selfish friend. The doctor had offered him medical help, too. But Will decided to fight this one alone. And he initially failed miserably.
But as he watched his house fade in the trucks rearview mirror, he had an epiphany: The rearview mirror was smaller than the windshield. He was supposed to keep his eye on the future and not dwell on the past. Will had dreamed the night before that his truck didn’t have a steering wheel and he had run into the ditch. Will knew that he had lost control of his life. But wasn’t control an illusion anyway? Will felt a burning in his heart. He decided to turn over things he could not control to a higher power. Will was determined to succeed.
Now to figure out what success really meant.
That night in a hotel room, he sipped on a bottle of Yoo-Hoo and wrote down all his successes and failures. He mapped out his dreams. He mapped out goals to turn those dreams into reality. He took responsibility for his failures.
God, he missed Suzanne. Even if she did tick him off.
The next morning at his new job at PezCo Industries, a coworker said, “Heard Suzanne kicked you out.” Will sipped his coffee, smiled and said, “You heard correctly. She booted me right out onto the street.” And then Will walked away.
His coworker looked at Will and wondered why he was wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. The man had every right to — there is nothing more humiliating than your wife kicking you out of the house. But nothing was going to slow Will down. He was a man on a mission. In fact, everyone that day noticed a change in him. Every action was suddenly deliberate. Everything Will did seemed to be by some plan. He was looking into his windshield, not his rearview mirror.
Within two months, Will had gotten a sizable raise. No longer was he worried about his job security. He was too busy studying for his management training test. Will had joined a local gym and lost 40 lbs., too. He ran with the local running group and met new friends — healthy friends who had dreams also.
On March 15, the sheriff knocked on the door and served him divorce papers. Will looked down at the documents and felt a part of him die. But at that moment, he chose to look out the windshield and not in the rearview mirror. Will would survive. Will would succeed. His dreams were coming true. No one would stop him now.
No thing would either.
On April 15, the phone rang. Will picked it up. “Will, this is Dr. Roberts. I don’t know how to tell you this, but the scans show a tumor. We need to operate tomorrow.”
Will laughed and said, “Thanks, Doc. We’ll beat this.”
And by September, Dr. Roberts called again, “There is no sign of the cancer. You are my miracle patient. Actually, the fact that you were in such good shape helped you recover that much faster. And your attitude. I don’t know what it is about you, Will, but you have the strongest, well, will I’ve ever seen.”
Will said “thanks” and could almost taste the chemo when he said it.
One year from the date Suzanne had kicked him out, Will sat in his corner office and looked out over the city. His life had changed for the bad and the good over the past year. But when he chose treat life like the blessing it was, he had broken out of the purgatory he was in.
“Sir,” his assistant interrupted his thoughts, “You have a visitor.”
“Who?” Will said. “I didn’t have anyone scheduled for this morning.”
“An old friend,” the assistant said.
Will turned around to see Suzanne standing in the doorway.
“I don’t expect you to want to see me. But I miss you. Could we at least have lunch,” his ex-wife said.
Will said, “Sure. I’ll buy.”
And once again, Will chose to look out of the windshield and not his rearview mirror.
