Anyone who doesn’t believe in miracles is not a realist. ~ David Ben-Gurion
Sorry about the short-but-scary post yesterday. Here’s what happened.
Yesterday morning, on his way to work, Loving Husband was in a car accident. He was on a major highway going roughly the speed limit, when very suddenly the traffic ahead of him came to a dead stop. He couldn’t stop in time, and he ran into the car in front of him, hitting their back end primarily with his driver’s side back door.
(Photo via sxc.hu, by wax115.)
The damage was, apparently, atrocious: our truck, a much-loved, one-owner 1999 Dodge Durango, is most likely going to be totaled — which breaks poor Loving Husband’s heart, since it was his first car. It carried him the nine hours from his college in Vermont to mine in New Jersey, as often as he could manage it, for two years. It pulled a trailer across the country for us — twice. It safely hauled people, cats, and a baby in addition to anything else that we could possibly think of. It was a very good truck.
Fortunately, his heart is the only thing about Loving Husband that was broken in the accident. He banged up his knee a little, and his (already bad) back may be having some trouble, but after a couple of hours in a hospital emergency room being poked and prodded and x-rayed, he was able to come home and play violent video games to recover from the shock.
My thanks for yesterday — that it was only the truck that died, and not him — are the same as for today. That accident could have been so very, very much worse. I’m not religious, and I’m not really inclined to believe in divine intervention, but I will admit that I breathed a heartfelt “Thank God” or six yesterday.
So today I’m thankful for his safety. I’m thankful for his good driving, which meant that he had enough following distance to slow down so that he didn’t hit going full speed. I’m thankful for his clear head, which allowed him to swerve aside enough not to hit head-on. I’m thankful that nobody else was seriously hurt, though two other cars were involved.
And if there were spirits, totems, angels, or whatever looking over all of it? Well, I’m thankful for them, too. Maybe tonight I’ll light a stick of incense, in thanks.
(Photo via sxc.hu, by vierdrie.)
I’ll definitely be extra-specially nice to my poor husband, at least for a few days. Until the shock and fear is forgotten. Which it will be — we can’t spend all our time treasuring every moment, after all, or nobody would ever get any laundry done.