If you know me, or if you're at least familiar with me, then you're probably aware that I'm not exactly "serious". Sure, I fuss and complain a lot, but it's mostly for fun.
There isn't a lot worth taking "seriously". Life is too short to live without humor in massive amounts. A light heart is a happy heart.
But, being a sensible girl, I do hold a few tasks in rather high regard when it comes to seriousness.
One of those things is driving. I ~heart~ horsepower, but I'm not willing to risk my life or someone else's life by using horsepower foolishly. Going fast is for race tracks or places where you pose a danger only to yourself and even then the chances are slim. Horsepower is for a controlled environment.
Driving means driving. Not texting, talking on the phone, eating, putting on make up, dicking around with the iPod, gawking at things that aren't on the road, not the place to be if you've been partying with adult beverages or other substances.
Tonight I was at a red light, a notoriously long one. So I used that moment to call home and let someone know to expect me soon. Just in case I should be kidnapped en route or something. (As if someone could actually do that.)
I used the time at the light to make a simple call and put my phone back in my purse in the passenger seat. After the call ended, I hung up the phone and checked the light. Still red. I opened my purse. Checked again and the light was green. I hesitated, just long enough to make sure I dropped the phone into the open top of my bag. I pushed on the pedal. The car crept forward. (Like I said, even though I -could- treat every intersection like the starting line at the drag strip, that's a waste of gas and just kind of dumb.)
Then my windshield was dark, yet only for a moment. For just a whisper of a second, I was engulfed in the shadow of a commercial truck hauling a container. Full speed ahead. Woosh. In it's wake, it left a quiet but powerful wave of air that slightly rocked my car as it blew past, less than a yard from the forward edge of my car. Perhaps closer.
I can't remember now if the container was grey or that faded rusty red color so many of them seem to be. I am pretty sure the truck was dark blue. But at that moment, things were happening so fast and so slow at the same time. For some reason, my memory forgot to record in color.
My mind hasn't been so clear in years. I remember every song I heard on the way home. I remember thinking of all the things I would have done for the last time, had I not hesitated at that light. I thought about the last phone call I had with Mr. Buffie. I thought about all the mundane things I did today and how I have every intention of showing up tomorrow to do them again because I've become so arrogant in my thinking that I feel entitled to the future.
The future is just a theory. Just an idea. It isn't "real". Only right now is real. Only right now is a guarantee.
It took hours, minutes, days to digest what happened. I let off the gas and just sat there in disbelief. I looked around at the other cars to see if anyone saw what I did, like catching a look at bigfoot and wondering if you were the only one who noticed. I don't even remember what I saw. There's just a blur and the moment really only lasted a fraction of a second but felt like a wait in line at the DMV.
I did go through the intersection eventually. And I think I kind of floated home.
People joke about being run over by a bus or getting hit by a Mack truck. I joke about that stuff, too. I joke a lot about being plowed over by a crazed, distracted, pill popping soccer mom speeding in her giant SUV while she's on her cell phone, eating a power bar, and yelling at her kids.
I will probably joke about it tomorrow. But it will never be the same. Because sometimes, that red light really is just a suggestion to someone. Why am I so sure this was almost Buffie's Last Night in Town? Think about it. The speed limit on that highway is 45 to 55 depending on where you are. This is a huge commercial truck, and I have no way of knowing (thank goodness) whether he was loaded or unladen. Still, that's a lot more iron and steel than my Z28. I don't even have a real roof on my car. I have glass t-tops. Total pancake scenario.
(Disclaimer - The vast majority of commercial truck drivers are experienced professionals who would never dream of doing something so dangerous and STUPID. In fact, stats show that in accidents involving passenger cars and commercial trucks, the PASSENGER CAR is *at fault* MOST of the time. I have a lot of respect for truck drivers and what they mean to life as we know it. If it weren't for truck drivers, we'd be going to the train depot to buy groceries, clothes, and electronics. No thank you.)
Who would ever guess that the most insignificant task could have an impact on whether you live or die in a given moment. Putting my cell phone in my purse. I hesitated to make sure it actually fell into my purse, instead of on to the seat. Had I not done that, I would have accelerated just far enough for my hood to be under the front tires and the passenger compartment to absorb the impact of the radiator and engine.
Coming home tonight was like coming home for the first time. It's like waking up and not knowing where I am now. This near-encounter has blown a fuse in me and now I'm not as familiar as I used to be.
This is so dumb. Am I overreacting? Am I not reacting enough? I've never been so numb and I've never been so cautiously aware of my world. I'm equally glad it happened and wishing it would never have happened. Experiences like these... what can I really learn from it? I'm already a very good, careful, responsible driver. (Not perfect, but a damn lot better than MANY people with whom I must unfortunately share the road.) If nothing more comes of this than a weeks long episode of insomnia, then what's it for?
Does it have to be "for" anything? Does everything truly happen for a reason? Tonight has been both an argument for and against that philosophy. Perhaps hesitating with my cell phone happened for a reason, because I was not in the intersection when the truck ran the light. However, the truck ran the light and this is the closest thing I have ever had to a near-death experience (and something I do NOT wish to repeat).
Tomorrow is going to be the same as it ever was, but it isn't going to look at all how I expected.
No comments:
Post a Comment