The stretcher rattles in the back of the ambulance as it races down the road, sirens screeching and lights flaring. Monitors with glowing green and black screens beep unevenly, tracking a stuttering heartbeat. It's not looking good for the battered young man in the ambulance. His younger brother has already slipped away despite the paramedics' best efforts.
The car accident was swift and horrific. Little Sam had been there, sitting in the front seat as the brothers laughed and horsed around like they always did.
And now he is gone.
Charlie doesn't know that yet; he is fighting a battle of his own. Oscillating between life and death, it seems that Charlie is going to join his brother.
His heart rate flatlines.
In that ambulance, the middle-aged paramedic is Charlie's last hope. Uttering a prayer and furrowing his brow in determination, the man charges the defibrillator. Charlie's world goes from black to blindingly bright with pain, but he is alive.
Years later, the paramedic and Charlie run into each other again. He asks Charlie how he's held up since the accident, exclaiming how miraculous the recovery was. The paramedic's own health has declined, but he asks Charlie what he's done with his second chance at life. Why you? The paramedic's questions seem to imply. You survived against all odds. What are you gonna do with that?
You should know something, though. None of this -- the ambulance, Charlie, Sam -- is real.
Last weekend I watched "Charlie St. Cloud," a 2010 movie based on a book by Ben Sherwood, and those words got me thinking. Why you?
We may not all have a traumatic experience like Charlie's -- that's something I would never, ever hope for anyone -- but if you are reading this, you're here too. You're alive. So many things could have happened to you along the way to change that, but they haven't. And that means something.
That quiet little question has been sitting in my mind ever since last week. It's worth considering. What are you going to do with your first -- or second -- chance at life?
The paramedic could have felt worthless at one point, or like he had no purpose. He might've struggled to feel like he mattered during low points in his life. And yet for Charlie, he was everything. Their lives came together in a brief and dramatic moment, then continued on.
You don't have to bring someone back from the dead to change their life. But you can be the connection that drives someone's life forward, just the way some people you have met changed everything for you. In moments where you lack purpose or feel down, it's important to come back to that question: Why you? Why are you here? Whose life will you change, improve or even save while you're here? It's pretty incredible to think about.
