There are pivotal times in life, times when you re-examine your priorities, beliefs, and your life-trajectory. August 3rd, 2015, was one of those moments for me, because on that morning, I had a near-death biking accident, in Montauk, New York.
In 2013, I purchased a summer house in Montauk, in the Hither Hills area. We lived in New York at the time, and went to Montauk a lot during the summers, so it made sense. But in late 2014, we moved to Miami. Still, we decided we would keep the Montauk house. We loved everything about the quiet town of Montauk, from our house, to the beach, the restaurants, everything. Flying up to spend the summers there would be great.
In August 2015, after a three-hour flight and five-hour drive, we finally arrived in Montauk: myself, my wife, and my little daughter, who was then about one and a half. After quickly unpacking, we headed out to dinner, making grand plans for all the places we would go and things we would do for the rest of the month. But as the old cliche has it, “Tell God your plans, and watch Him laugh.”
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