A Powerful Reminder
Before you read the following post, please take a look at the post “All About the Journey.” I ask that you do this because the words displayed there were written yesterday afternoon (January 3rd, 2014). Little did I know, later that evening my family and I would get a harsh reminder of the truth resting in those typed letters.
The following post is based entirely on facts and is in no way fictional.
Yesterday evening (January 3rd, 2014), at approximately 7:05pm, my phone began to ring violently. My mother’s photo was displayed on the screen. My first thought was that she was calling to discuss the writing project we are working on together. I could not have been more wrong.
Her voice was immediately panicked. In broken sentences, she exasperatedly explained to me that Kevin had just been in a car accident right in front of her. Because my brother and step father share the same first name, I immediately asked for clarification. It was my step father. The tone of her voice implied it was serious and she gave me little information about my step father’s condition. She ended the call with “I think he’s okay. I have to go! I’ll call you back.” My thoughts ran a million different directions with one dominant question pounding in my mind. Is he okay?
I reflected on the limited facts that had been conveyed in our short phone conversation. My mother, Denise, had been driving behind him in her own car. Why they were in separate vehicles, I had no idea. My mother had apparently witnessed the entire incident. Another car had collided with his. The details of the accident were unknown. My mind kept circling to the one question: is he okay? Then, several other thoughts arose. How will she react if he isn’t? What if she approaches him and he is unconscious or seriously injured? Finally, one question overtook all others. What can I do to help?
There I was sitting at home, a 45 minute drive away, feeling utterly useless. I had to do something, anything! I desperately tried dialing my mother’s number multiple times. There was no answer. She had said she thought he was okay, but that gave me no definitive answer. For all I knew my mother may be alone in the street crying over Kevin’s body. Without any further thought, I grabbed my car keys and rushed out the door.
The drive was torturous. I struggled between the lines of speeding and caution, worrying I may cause an additional accident in the process. After I got onto interstate 540, my car began to shake. The balding front tires on my Mustang restrained my desire to fly down the road. I passed exit after exit. The journey seemed to be lasting an eternity. My phone rested silently in my purse.
Finally, I heard the tune of Mudvayne’s song Fall into Sleep. The ringtone echoed loudly; it had been the reason I selected it the day before. My mother voice was still shaky, but she had clearly calmed some. She explained Kevin was okay. The paramedics had taken him on a stretcher as a precaution, but he appeared to have no life threatening injuries. She gave me the details that he had been hit by another driver, a woman in her early twenties. I asked if the girl was okay and my mother confirmed yes. Neither driver suffered fatal injuries. Her thoughts then turned toward the car. It had been the first new car Kevin owned since he was 20 years old. He loved that vehicle. She told me the damage was extensive and it was likely totaled. I could hear the stress filling her voice. I tried to reassure her the car did not matter. It was just a thing, one that could be easily replaced. I pointed out that considering all the loved ones she had lost, she of all people should understand that concept. She completely agreed.
I will not bore you with the details of the hospital visit that followed. Though one interesting fact did surface during the retelling of events in that small, white room. My mother said when she approached the car, several strangers were already standing around Kevin and the other driver. These individuals saw what happened and dropped everything they were doing to come to the aide of another. This is a beautiful reminder there are still caring, selfless individuals in this world. It was also a powerful reminder that we never know what can happen. Tomorrow is never promised. In this case, everyone walked away. I thank God for that.
The following post is based entirely on facts and is in no way fictional.
Yesterday evening (January 3rd, 2014), at approximately 7:05pm, my phone began to ring violently. My mother’s photo was displayed on the screen. My first thought was that she was calling to discuss the writing project we are working on together. I could not have been more wrong.
Her voice was immediately panicked. In broken sentences, she exasperatedly explained to me that Kevin had just been in a car accident right in front of her. Because my brother and step father share the same first name, I immediately asked for clarification. It was my step father. The tone of her voice implied it was serious and she gave me little information about my step father’s condition. She ended the call with “I think he’s okay. I have to go! I’ll call you back.” My thoughts ran a million different directions with one dominant question pounding in my mind. Is he okay?
I reflected on the limited facts that had been conveyed in our short phone conversation. My mother, Denise, had been driving behind him in her own car. Why they were in separate vehicles, I had no idea. My mother had apparently witnessed the entire incident. Another car had collided with his. The details of the accident were unknown. My mind kept circling to the one question: is he okay? Then, several other thoughts arose. How will she react if he isn’t? What if she approaches him and he is unconscious or seriously injured? Finally, one question overtook all others. What can I do to help?
There I was sitting at home, a 45 minute drive away, feeling utterly useless. I had to do something, anything! I desperately tried dialing my mother’s number multiple times. There was no answer. She had said she thought he was okay, but that gave me no definitive answer. For all I knew my mother may be alone in the street crying over Kevin’s body. Without any further thought, I grabbed my car keys and rushed out the door.
The drive was torturous. I struggled between the lines of speeding and caution, worrying I may cause an additional accident in the process. After I got onto interstate 540, my car began to shake. The balding front tires on my Mustang restrained my desire to fly down the road. I passed exit after exit. The journey seemed to be lasting an eternity. My phone rested silently in my purse.
Finally, I heard the tune of Mudvayne’s song Fall into Sleep. The ringtone echoed loudly; it had been the reason I selected it the day before. My mother voice was still shaky, but she had clearly calmed some. She explained Kevin was okay. The paramedics had taken him on a stretcher as a precaution, but he appeared to have no life threatening injuries. She gave me the details that he had been hit by another driver, a woman in her early twenties. I asked if the girl was okay and my mother confirmed yes. Neither driver suffered fatal injuries. Her thoughts then turned toward the car. It had been the first new car Kevin owned since he was 20 years old. He loved that vehicle. She told me the damage was extensive and it was likely totaled. I could hear the stress filling her voice. I tried to reassure her the car did not matter. It was just a thing, one that could be easily replaced. I pointed out that considering all the loved ones she had lost, she of all people should understand that concept. She completely agreed.
I will not bore you with the details of the hospital visit that followed. Though one interesting fact did surface during the retelling of events in that small, white room. My mother said when she approached the car, several strangers were already standing around Kevin and the other driver. These individuals saw what happened and dropped everything they were doing to come to the aide of another. This is a beautiful reminder there are still caring, selfless individuals in this world. It was also a powerful reminder that we never know what can happen. Tomorrow is never promised. In this case, everyone walked away. I thank God for that.
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