Monday, July 14, 2008

I Believe There Are Angels Among Us

I drive to and from work on the same county road five days a week. I'm used to this road and am fairly comfortable with it. Only fairly, because two years ago I blew a tire taking one of the "S" curves and ended up in the ditch. So, while I still drive the same route, I've developed a healthy respect for it. I tend to go less on "auto-pilot", especially when getting close to the area where I had my incident.

On Saturday, two curves past the curve where I had my accident, I hit two kids that were on a four wheeler while driving my car approximately 45 miles per hour. I was going around a curve and saw them exiting their neighbor's driveway. I remember seeing them, moving my right foot from the gas to the brake (as sometimes people pull out without looking) then registering that they were not going to stop. I slammed on the brakes, cranked my steering wheel to the left and prayed "Please God". Then I felt a sickening THUD.

The next thing I remember is standing on the side of the road, looking for them. I don't remember stopping my car, putting it in park, or making it across the street. (Good thing there wasn't another car coming or I'd probably have been next.)

Luckily, both boys are fine. More than fine. They are great. The smallest of the two went in to the hospital for observation because he said his tummy hurt. They kept him just to be safe and he was home by noon the next day.

I, however, am not so fine. I can't stop thinking that I could have killed those kids. It doesn't matter that I was not found at fault. It doesn't matter that they pulled out of the driveway without stopping and that I did the best I could. It doesn't matter that the sheriff AND family complemented me on my quick reaction and let me know that my reflexes probably saved both their lives. It doesn't matter that they should NEVER have been on the road in the first place. All I can think is that I COULD HAVE KILLED THEM.

If you look at the road, you can see the skid marks. It is really creepy. Brad and I have driven past them three times since it happened.

I remember thinking "Please God" at the time. I didn't even have the chance to complete the thought, which was "Please God, don't let me hit them." I heard the thud and realized I had.

Maybe what I really meant was "Please God, let them be ok." Either way, I'm really glad He heard me. When you drive past the boys' house, you can see one of those big wooden playground sets in their front yard. I'm so grateful that they are still around to use it.

So, other than the nightmares where I hit them head on instead of just a glancing blow (and the ones about going to their funerals), embarrassment of having the entire town know that you are the reason the town siren went off and summoned the first responders, or of having a giant rubber tire mark down the side of my car from where the four wheeler bounced off of is good. I'm betting in the next day or so I will start seeing the glass half full...and that it really could have gone horribly wrong and didn't. Someday, I might even be able to give myself a pat on the back for a job well done. I do know that if those boys and I have angels, they should get paid overtime for this one.

Song of the day: Angels Among Us

P.S. I now have a new life's oldest blogger. 36 years down....72 to go. :D

World's oldest blogger signs off at age 108

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