Drive safe. Yes, I realize that it may not be grammatically correct, but it's what my mom always said to me as a teenager when I would leave the house. The words, in her voice, are etched in my memory. Actually, she still says it to me sometimes.
I was driving safely this morning, but another driver wasn't. She decided to run a light, fail to yield right of way, and turn in front of me. And I couldn't stop. My 3 year old was with me. He and I are both okay, but to be quite honest, it was scary as hell. Thankfully, amazingly (just look at the pictures below!), the other driver and her passenger are okay as well.
I should be packing and getting the car ready to leave on a road trip tomorrow morning. We've cancelled that, and instead I'm sitting here, looking at pictures of the car, reliving every second of the morning, playing the "what if" game. I did nothing wrong, and yet I'm still wondering "what if I'd stopped for gas instead of deciding to wait until the morning" and on and on.
Please, please, please -- this is my plea to everyone. Drive safely. Pay attention. Slow down. Don't run red lights or stop signs. Don't text and drive. It's not worth risking your life and the lives of those around you just to get somewhere 30 seconds faster, to try to "beat" the light, to say to yourself "oh, I'll just text my best friend the latest gossip". Am I a perfect driver? No, and I don't claim to be. But I try my best to be a safe driver because I know that my kids' lives could depend on it. While we're at it, wear your damn seat belt and make sure your kids are buckled up in an appropriate car seat. Please.
I would also like to say thank you to the people that stopped to help. There was a lady that didn't see the wreck but passed by right after it happened. She was a blessing. She walked over and asked if I was okay, told me her name and that she was a nurse, and then she hugged me. That gesture? That simple hug? It meant more to me than she will probably ever know. She talked and joked with the Sprout, who was still buckled in his carseat, okay but scared and shaken up. To Glenda -- thank you.
And the others that stopped -- the woman at the gas station that saw the whole thing, who brought her 4 year old daughter over to make sure everyone was okay and to tell the police what happened. She stayed even when she didn't have to just to make sure my husband got there to get us. To Tabitha -- thank you.
And of course the policemen and EMS workers, and the firefighters that let the Sprout take a look inside the firetruck. The man that let me use his cell phone to call my husband when I couldn't find my phone. My poor husband, who got a phone call from a strange number, then got to listen to his hyperventilating wife say she'd just been in a wreck, it was bad, please come to where we were, then hung up on him. My best friend, who said she'd be there in 10 if I needed her to. Yeah, you don't know what that meant to me either. I'm holding you to the offer of the froyo this weekend, by the way.
I need to write this all out, get these thoughts that have been swirling around somewhat organized, or at least voiced so that maybe I can actually sleep tonight. It took me a long time to stop shaking. I'm still shaken up. The tears still come. Cars can be fixed or replaced. Vacations can be rescheduled. We are okay, and that is what matters.
Drive safe.
