"Don't assume this is a two-hankie book. It is not. You will cry, but you will also laugh. You will experience not only anger, but also gratification. And in the end, you will be uplifted."
— Eileen Rudnick, from her book, "The Glass Between Us"
Eldersburg resident Eileen Rudnick is living proof that sometimes out of the worst, the best can come.
The evening of Oct. 3, 2000 was just another mild Tuesday, another relatively uneventful day ... until the moment that everything changed for Rudnick, a wife, mother of two, grandmother of two and an accountant.
At 6:20 p.m., while driving home from work on Route 140 near Old Gamber Road, her car was hit head-on by a pickup truck.
Seconds later, an SUV slammed into the back of her disabled vehicle.
Photos of the accident, which Rudnick, now 60, includes in her book, "The Glass Between Us," are excruciating to look at.
She suffered massive fractures and internal injuries, including severe brain injury.
In those first crucial minutes and hours, as she was flown to the University of Maryland Shock Trauma Center in Baltimore, her survival was uncertain. And during gruelling months and years of surgery, therapy and recovery that followed, there were times when she found herself wondering why she had survived, and maybe even occasionally wishing she hadn't.
But looking back, Rudnick, whose therapy and recovery after 11 years is still a work in progress, calls her near-fatal crash "my rebirth."
That birth has led to a number of milestones — her book and the founding of a brain injury support group among them.
Another comes this week, as Eileen Rudnick completes her associate degree from Carroll Community College with a 4.0 grade-point average. She will attend Hood College this fall on a full scholarship.
In "The Glass Between Us," the Canadian-born writer relies on the recollections of others, including the emergency responders from the Reese Volunteer Fire Co., Carroll County Station 9, who extracted her from her vehicle, to recreate the accident.
She has no recollections of it herself.
"The torn and bloodied mess of my favorite dress was lying on the floor by my gurney with the rest of my clothing that had been cut from my body," she wrote in the book. "Just one hour ago I had been driving home from work. Now my life was on hold and my survival was in question. The excitement of my new job with a significant raise in salary was already over and I would never return."
Since that evening Rudnick's road has been long and torturous, with periods of darkness and light, despair and self-discovery.
As she vividly recounts in her intelligently crafted — and at times painfully candid and insightful — book, the journey took her through rage, depression and the sort of physical and emotional pain that most of us probably can't, and don't want to, imagine.
She has no love lost for her former insurance provider, but Rudnick expresses profound gratitude for her doctors, her therapists, the Reese Volunteer Fire Co., her adult children and Mike, her husband of 40 years.
But in an interview last week at Carroll Community College, where she plans to stay on as a math and writing tutor, she said it was also a process marked by personal growth, renewed faith and strengthened human connections.
"My faith was strengthened through this experience," said Rudnick, who is also a volunteer with the Brain Injury Association of Maryland, and who started a brain injury support group at St. Joseph's Church, in Eldersburg.