This December my life was changed in a way I still cannot completely comprehend.
I was driving to pick my husband up for work one day, and noticed a lot of police cars going ahead of me. I didn't really think much about that... just wondered where they were going, and then thought about other things. Eventually I noticed traffic slowing in front of me, and noticed the cars in front of me needing to turn onto side streets. The police weren't directing traffic well, and so some cars were turning to the right and others were turning to the left. I turned to the right. Apparently, I should have turned to the left. I drove a block after turning right... then made a left after a block. I followed a string of cars up maybe three blocks on a side street, and then followed them as they turned to the left to get back to the highway. Once we got to the highway, we found it blocked and turned around. I went back a block, and then had to decide if I wanted to try and backtrack and get back onto the highway, which would most likely be slow and possibly even impossible, or try to follow the side street and make my own detour. I chose the side street. I went farther, and then turned to get back onto the highway. I figured I MUST have avoided the accident by that point, since I was probably a mile past the first police cars... so I drove back to the highway.
And found myself less than 6 feet from a burned out shell of a car. I was marveling at this amazing sight (Moment of confession: I really like fire.) when I looked up and saw a sheet placed over the window.
A white sheet. Covering the burned up remains... of a person.
I was sick inside. I drove onto the highway (what the heck else does one do? I was in shock!) and then cried all the way to pick up my husband.
We watched the news that night... apparently a 25 year-old-man was driving his car, when he was rear-ended by another car. His car instantly burst into flame, shooting fireballs into the air. One moment he was alive... the next he was dead. Just that quick. I couldn't even process the events. I couldn't comprehend what I had seen, let alone make sense of it.
The next day I drove to take my husband to and from work... passing the same spot on the road. I cried again... I couldn't stop thinking of him. I grew depressed.
We found out that my husband worked with his mom. He was a federal prison officer. He was a fire department volunteer. He was just. so. young.
Later we noticed the burn marks on the highway where his car had burnt the highway. Again... I wanted to be sick.
A few days later, after getting my husband from work, we tried to get onto the highway... and we saw a funeral procession. The funeral procession of the young man. Again, I cried. How could a life end so fast!? So out of the blue? With no warning?!
Last week, as I drove, I saw a cross by the side of the road, beside the burn marks on the highway. I plan to get an artificial red rose, and place it by the cross.
I'm still sickened by what I saw. I took more time to pray... to really think. I still can't understand what happened... I still don't know why I made that wrong turn. I don't know why I was a witness to the scene in the car. I know that I am changed... every day I pray when I get in my car. I pray for myself, for my husband... and I pray for the others driving that day. I am more careful when I'm driving... I posted lectures on my Facebook warning people about the dangers of tailgating, reminding them that 2 seconds of speed are not worth the life of another person... but it feels like an inadequate response to the depth of what happened to me. I feel like my life should reflect the change that has happened inside of me... but how?
I was driving to pick my husband up for work one day, and noticed a lot of police cars going ahead of me. I didn't really think much about that... just wondered where they were going, and then thought about other things. Eventually I noticed traffic slowing in front of me, and noticed the cars in front of me needing to turn onto side streets. The police weren't directing traffic well, and so some cars were turning to the right and others were turning to the left. I turned to the right. Apparently, I should have turned to the left. I drove a block after turning right... then made a left after a block. I followed a string of cars up maybe three blocks on a side street, and then followed them as they turned to the left to get back to the highway. Once we got to the highway, we found it blocked and turned around. I went back a block, and then had to decide if I wanted to try and backtrack and get back onto the highway, which would most likely be slow and possibly even impossible, or try to follow the side street and make my own detour. I chose the side street. I went farther, and then turned to get back onto the highway. I figured I MUST have avoided the accident by that point, since I was probably a mile past the first police cars... so I drove back to the highway.
And found myself less than 6 feet from a burned out shell of a car. I was marveling at this amazing sight (Moment of confession: I really like fire.) when I looked up and saw a sheet placed over the window.
A white sheet. Covering the burned up remains... of a person.
I was sick inside. I drove onto the highway (what the heck else does one do? I was in shock!) and then cried all the way to pick up my husband.
We watched the news that night... apparently a 25 year-old-man was driving his car, when he was rear-ended by another car. His car instantly burst into flame, shooting fireballs into the air. One moment he was alive... the next he was dead. Just that quick. I couldn't even process the events. I couldn't comprehend what I had seen, let alone make sense of it.
The next day I drove to take my husband to and from work... passing the same spot on the road. I cried again... I couldn't stop thinking of him. I grew depressed.
We found out that my husband worked with his mom. He was a federal prison officer. He was a fire department volunteer. He was just. so. young.
Later we noticed the burn marks on the highway where his car had burnt the highway. Again... I wanted to be sick.
A few days later, after getting my husband from work, we tried to get onto the highway... and we saw a funeral procession. The funeral procession of the young man. Again, I cried. How could a life end so fast!? So out of the blue? With no warning?!
Last week, as I drove, I saw a cross by the side of the road, beside the burn marks on the highway. I plan to get an artificial red rose, and place it by the cross.
I'm still sickened by what I saw. I took more time to pray... to really think. I still can't understand what happened... I still don't know why I made that wrong turn. I don't know why I was a witness to the scene in the car. I know that I am changed... every day I pray when I get in my car. I pray for myself, for my husband... and I pray for the others driving that day. I am more careful when I'm driving... I posted lectures on my Facebook warning people about the dangers of tailgating, reminding them that 2 seconds of speed are not worth the life of another person... but it feels like an inadequate response to the depth of what happened to me. I feel like my life should reflect the change that has happened inside of me... but how?
2 comments:
I'm so sorry you had to witness that. I think the man's family would appreciate your prayers.
wow!! I was made aware of how life can be taken at any moment by God just recently - not in anyway as dramatic as your experience though
we must be careful
life is fragile
my prayers go out to his family too
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