Car of thought.

Yesterday I went home for my sister's birthday.

I was driving down the parkway, blasting Michael Buble, singing at the top of my lungs, and reliving memories when a van less than 100 yards ahead of me ran a stop light and was hit by an intersecting sedan. I watched in horror as the van flipped on it's head, rotated in probably 3 full circles, and came to a rest upside down, and completely destroyed. I went into momentary shock, hardly able to believe what I had just witnessed. There were multiple other cars between me and the accident, so I didn't feel I needed to stay to give a statement to the police, as a crowd was already beginning to form. I just needed to get out of there.

I got on the 15, and then I lost it. I couldn't stop imagining the scene, and the people that could possibly be inside that van. I kept thinking about their families and loved ones, and the current emotions those people were probably feeling, as they were probably just being informed of the accident. I thought of the kids in the back of the mini-van (where there was less damage done) witnessing their parents being severely injured, and then having to be trapped inside the van while rescue workers ripped metal to get them out. And holy smokes; I just cried and cried.

After I was done crying, I started to think about my car accident 2 summers ago. It was the summer before freshman year, probably about June, and I was coming back from a job interview. I had interviewed for my (current) job at University Mall to be the Assistant Marketing Director a few days previous, and this particular day I had an interview for another company in Provo. They had offered me the job, but I was hesitant because I hadn't heard back from the mall yet, and that was the job that I really wanted. Anyway, I was driving back considering my options, when a truck a few cars in front of me lost a ladder off the back of his truck. The next few seconds were a blur of brake lights, and crushed metal. I sat in the driver's seat for what felt like an eternity before I realized what had just happened. I stepped out of the car, and started to wander (around a BUSY freeway, mind you) in an attempt to think through things. Yeah, I know. My glasses had flown off in the crash, and I therefore could not see. The lady in the car in front of me was telling me to call 911, and for some reason, it took forever for me to do it. I was in shock, I guess. I called 911, but when they asked me where I was, I couldn't tell them. I legitimately didn't know. And I couldn't see any signs to tell me, either. That's when I started to get hysterical. I started sobbing, and tried to get the attention of, well, anyone else. Eventually, one of the people got out of their car and finished the conversation with the 911 dispatcher. (Because I was obviously unable to.) He then calmly, but firmly told me that I needed to get back in my car, and buckle my seatbelt. There was a ton of traffic, and I was obviously not in a clear state of mind, considering I was wandering around on I15.

Sitting in the car, my mind started to comprehend what had just happened. I called my dad, and after I got off the phone with him, I began to cry again. I remember thinking, 'I need to talk to Lj.' Lj was in Hawaii at the time, and when I called, it was probably around six o'clock in the morning there. I called him, regardless.

He answered the phone with a, "Hey, sweetheart. What's up? Are you alright?"
I immediately started to sob harder. "Oh my gosh, what's the matter? What happened?"
I just kept crying, and could only tell him how much I loved him. Patiently, he told me how much he loved me too, and assured me that not matter what had happened, it would be alright. Everything would be alright.
I finally calmed down enough to tell him what had happened.
I relayed the circumstance to him, and he continued to assure me that everything would be okay. He kept telling me how happy he was that I wasn't hurt, and how much he loved me.
By the end of the conversation, my sobs had receded to shallow breathing, and my tears had transformed into puffy, red eyes; and semi-logical thought processes. It was about that time that a cop showed up, and so I hung up with Lj, promising him I would call him back after everything was over.

The cop helped me get my car, and the other two cars to the side of the road, where we filled out statements. My dad showed up about ten minutes later. I was so scared that he was going to be mad; after all, I HAD just totaled his barely-a-year-old vehicle. But, my dad just came with an attitude of, "well, that's life--what can you do" and spent his energies comforting me, rather than lecturing me. I have such a great dad. Great parents, really.

This blog really has no point, no direction, no end. These were just my thoughts yesterday as I drove down the parkway; and the previous paragraph dictates the end of that train of thought.

Train. Hmm.

Anyway, that's all I wanted to say.

1 comment:

brooke said...

it's so hard to see other people hurt-i think it's hard, too, when we emphathize with them because it involves pain for us as well.