SEPTEMBER BEGAN WITH A BANG

 September started off with a bang – literally. I was on my way home from a pickle ball game, stopped at a red light, a giant cement mixer truck ahead of me. It was around lunchtime, and I was pleasantly hungry and contemplating a deliciously lazy afternoon ahead, on my couch, with food, watching the US Open men’s semi-finals. Then – WHAM! I screamed. The light may have just turned and the giant truck ahead took off. I got out of my car, shakily. A big landscaping pick-up truck behind had slammed into me.

When you’re in an accident, or some unexpected situation which rattles you, your brain shuts off, your instinct kicks in. But we both spoke calmly, he asked if I was okay, then suggested we get off the road and drive to a nearby parking lot to exchange details, which we did. He explained since he was high up, his eyes were on the truck, and seeing it begin to move, he hit the gas, forgetting about me in my little car right in front of him.

I remained shaken, drove home slowly (I was only about ten minutes away), then, once home, called my daughter, because, still frazzled, I wasn’t sure what my next steps should be. She advised me and talked me through it. Thank goodness for calm level-headed kids who take on the parenting role of advising and soothing when the parent is stressed. Does this role reversal increase as the parent ages? I think it does, and perhaps in my situation, this process has already begun in small incremental steps (I’m also thinking of our last trip together).

My car is badly damaged, at the shop for an estimate, and considering it’s 15 years old (but with very low mileage), it may even be a write-off. The pick-up truck had a minor crack on front fender. Now, I know the most important thing is that I was okay (apart from some initial soreness in upper shoulders), and of course, that is the perspective I want to maintain. Cars are just hunks of metal and can be repaired and/or replaced, unlike the human body. But the inconvenience and hassle of it all, having to deal with insurance/rentals/change of plans, and perhaps the added expense of purchasing a new vehicle if mine is kaput, these things take up precious time and mind space. And of course, more and more these days, I know and value how important these passing days are.

I painted the last couple of days to calm my mind and body. I walked. I went to an outdoor art show. I bought myself flowers and lemon cake (my favourite kind of cake). I wrote in my journal. I did a stretch class. I reminded myself of all the people whose lives have been upended in serious and tragic ways and my situation is just a blip that will be resolved soon.

When our routine gets disrupted, we realize how much we depend on that routine for a sense of our lives being in order and in control. We may seek to shake up that routine ourselves, with a trip, a social event, exploring a new part of town. But when that order and sense of security is shaken by something not of our own choosing, then it rattles us, makes us realize our fragility. In an instant, your life can be forever altered. When I consider what could have happened, but didn’t, I am relieved and grateful.

And, of course, as a writer, it gave me something to blog about.