So, it is said that life can change in an instant...

And so it can.

April 23, 7:29 PM. Enroute from one meeting to another in Little Rock, my rented SUV collides with another car at an intersection I've passed through dozens of times. Air bags, ambulance, x-rays, CT scans, MRI's -- broken neck.

I asked the Neurosurgeon to tell me how bad it was on a "1 - 10 scale."

"You broke your neck, so the scale starts at 5," he says. "And, with that in mind, it's a six."

So, in the grand scheme of things, I am lucky. Lucky that my wife was able to arrange to fly down to get me, lucky that we were able to return home within a few days, lucky that instead of dead or paralyzed, I'm faced with a few weeks off work and restrictions from lifting or playing with the kids and no golf for most of this season.

But, in the grand scheme of things, I am more than lucky. Lucky that my wife wanted to come down to get me, and that she's taking awesome care of me and the kids. Lucky that the other folks in the crash weren't hurt badly. Lucky that my faith let's me realize that this needed to happen, and lucky that I understand how badly out of kilter I'd become for it to need to happen.

Lucky that my kids genuinely care that Daddy hurts a bit. Lucky that even though the Vicadin was so good, I've had the discipline to stop it and let ibuprofen lead the way. (OK, maybe that's not luck -- cause ibuprofen sucks compared to the Vic!)

I can't help but count my blessings. Life could have ended for me in that instant, or for someone in the other car, and that would have left a huge gap for others. A broken vertebrae could have meant paralysis or long hospitalization.

I'm walking, after all, and a full recovery is expected.

I'm lucky that on my walk with my wife and our not-quite-three-year-old last night, our daughter looked up at my neck brace and said, "I wuv your scarf, daddy."

Here's hoping that part of life never changes, or, if it does, or when it does, I am too old to notice.