My life did not flash before my eyes. The words I spoke were not "Hail Mary" or "God save us." In fact, my children tell me they knew something was wrong simply because of of my tone when uttering the profound "Oh, shit!" Apparently that is a common harbinger of bad situations in my household. I should probably work on that.
I had a few seconds in which to watch the car behind me smash into the rear of my car. There were no squealing tires, no honking, no last-minute attempts to swerve. I was a sitting duck, and she didn't even slow down. There was a sudden jolt, the crashing of glass, and then the frantic voices of the five children in the back of my car. I can say with assurance when God reaches down and wraps a protective arm around a car full of precious cargo, He does not loudly announce Himself. But there is no doubt that He was right there in the midst of the chaos. He was in the face of the first person I saw when I looked up--blessedly the familiar face of Traci, another mom from school, and the two men who helped to get our front doors open. He was in the face of the nurse who helped me herd the kids out of the car to safety, of the EMT'S, the medics, the police officers, the ambulance drivers, and the many people who came to help not only me and my kids, but the driver of the other car and her baby. He was always there, and will always be there, even if I say "Oh, shit!" instead of something more reverent.
As far as I know, all involved were relatively unhurt. We kept a few squads busy in the minutes following the accident, but all my passengers were home and doing fine by bedtime. I pray the mother and baby from the other car did as well. That is the important part.
We returned to the car last night to retrieve personal effects. Not pretty. It absorbed the impact well--bless you, Toyota!--without passing it on the the passengers. The lift gate is a sad shadow if its former self, the window blown outward, the side panels buckled forward. The front end of the other car, now sitting right there in the same lot, fit completely and squarely into mine, and came out looking a lot the worse for it. We were all very fortunate.
I am amazed at how fuzzy my recollection is of the whole accident. It's funny how little details stick out, but nothing quite fits together. I like to think I keep my head in a crisis, but I probably overestimate my ability to stay level when my kids and my riders are personally involved. So to all the people who stopped to render aid, thank you. To the medical and professional personnel who were there in a heartbeat sorting everything out, thank you. To the compassionate nurse who stayed with me and the children, bless you for being the calm in a storm.
Saying thank you to God seems woefully inadequate, and we've been doing quite a lot of that lately. But thanks and praise are all I have, and that is enough.
