Fright

Last week, we finally got some rain. More than just a little drizzle; a whole two-three days of washing, drenching rain. After weeks and months of drought, it was absolutely wonderful. A little slick after those months of no rain, but tolerable.

Some days later, I heard about my sister's accident. She had been on her way to work, flying down a four lane county highway in the middle of one of those downpours when she hit a rise and went airborne. My heart about stopped to hear my husband's voice when he reacted to this news on the phone. Then I relaxed a little because I could hear in his voice that it wasn't as tragic as it could have been.

She went airborne, she said, and off the road and down a 5 foot embankment. Thank god the car was still pointed forward.

It's a complete miracle that she missed the telephone pole that was in her path. (I think my heart just stopped again imagining it.) Although she was out of control, she was somehow able to wrench the steering wheel enough to miss the looming deathtrap and go flying down another 80 feet or so, coming to rest on the muddy grassy roadside... It's an additional miracle because trying to effectively steer on a slippery grassy surface is a slim hope indeed.

I've had my unfortunate share of slow-motion oh-shit incidences, the last, worst, one ten years ago. As she was telling me about the telephone pole, I could see it in my mind... the moment when you realize you've made a serious miscalculation, the scariness of the near miss, the looming, the rattling and jolting as you fight for control as the grass, brush, poles and your life slashes by, probably in slow-motion as these things tend to go. Even the tow-truck driver remarked on her luckiness. Luckiness as far as these things go, that is. No other vehicle was involved. The car is little rattled up and needs work, but she's fine.

But. She's been doing a lot of thinking and soul-searching since then. How much she's driving to work... the way the family has to travel... her whole life flashing before her eyes... what she should have, might have, could have done. She didn't say so, but I thought of the potential for leaving her family ripped to shreds by her loss, and it makes it hard to breathe.

This week, I don't have to go to a haunted house to get a serious fright. All I have to do is think of my young niece ever losing her mother and what that would do to that little girl we love... I just turn cold inside.

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