Last Monday
morning was wet and cold for the first week in August. It was raining lightly
and felt more like October. I drove Oscar to daycare, a beautiful curvy drive
through the country that I cherish. I'm a country girl. Those roads are my
morning meditation. The last stretch of my route is on Highway 14 South, an old
two lane highway that curves its way through farmland, a busy commuter route;
speeding cars, semi trucks, huge farm tractors. It's not unusual to come across
a crash, part of the highway closed, re-routed. I get to work at the cafe on
those mornings and there is chatter about the wreck on 14 and we all shake our
heads...I was so close...just seconds away, it could have been me.
It happens in
a flash. Those who have experienced it know this. How it happens so fast and
yet while its happening, time practically stops. Time is very clearly an
illusion. I was just coming around a curve and I hit the gravel on the side of
the road just a little. The next thing I know I'm spinning like I'm on ice. I
don't know how many circles I did over the road. Apparently I hit a small pole
before sliding into and turning around in a deep ditch across the street from
what looked like an abandoned body shop. My car was facing the wrong way. In
that moment, when I'm spinning I just remember being very aware of the time and
very simply thinking this is happening. Here we go. And
then my car stopped and I shut it off and I sat there. I gathered the contents
of my purse that landed in the backseat. I grabbed my umbrella and hiked up to
stand under the awning of the old building to try and stay dry.
An old man
came out of the shop. He was small, wore a baseball cap, an old flannel and
some amazing leather boots that are probably older than me. I thought the place
was empty, so his presence surprised me. He asked if I was okay. I think he
tried talking to me, but he couldn't hear and I was pretty speechless.
Everything about him reminded me of my dad, if my dad had lived to be in his
late 70's.
When something
like that happens we always think it could have been worse. It's true. It could
have been so much worse. For those few seconds, during rush hour on a rainy
Monday morning, there were no cars in front or in back of me. And, of course,
Oscar was safely at daycare. The only thing that got lost in this was my car.
I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine.
I live in an amazing community. I was quickly embraced by those
that love me and I'm still feeling that embrace. We take care of each other and
that's a beautiful thing. My small crash was nothing compared to others stories
I've heard. But it doesn't leave you any less shaken. What if that, what if
this.
Those moments when we feel stripped down, the raw
sweetness of life is exposed in all its messy metaphors and poetry. We are quickly
reminded of how amazing this life is. The heart beat. The embrace. We reach out
for help and we reach out to let others know we are okay.
Right now it’s Saturday night and Oscar is away with
his daddy on a camping trip. I’m home, drinking a glass of wine, writing,
listening to the sounds of the birds, dogs and kids on my street. The sun is
beginning to set behind the houses. The ice cream truck drives through the
neighborhood.
