I’ve been in a place with no words lately.
When will I learn that not having words, or really, not being able to express them, does not help one (me) to escape?
I hadn’t planned on writing this.
But then something brushed past me and I felt like maybe I could get something out.
Now I’m not so sure again.
This is a frustrating battle.
I want a poem.
I want significance if I’m going to have to stutter through these mutilating stops and starts.
I want something to show for the scar tissue from all the rips in my chest.
I haven’t had much time to paint.
Or maybe it is energy I have struggled with.
With vacation and all…
I did take some iPhone photos while I was gone…and my phone never got close to dying.
I did though. We were nearly involved in a potentially fatal crash on the highway on the way to the airport, coming home.
The tire on a pickup in front of us blew and sent the pickup bouncing and swerving into a concrete partition barrier under an overpass and then tossed it back across to the other side of the highway for another concrete kiss before it finally came to a stop. The highway was filled with traffic, including a speeding semi directly behind us (and we were the first car behind the pickup that lost control). Miraculously, there was nobody in the lane beside the out-of-control pickup and so it kept the snowball effect from happening, and we were miraculously far enough behind the pickup that when the tire blew and the actual crash(es)/impacts happened we were able to avoid contact.
I know at least 10 drivers had to have seen the accident happen, and sadly, us and one other single male driver were the only ones to pull over to make sure the driver of the pickup was ok. It’s pretty horrible to watch a vehicle crash right in front of you (or behind you, I’ve experienced that before on the highway too…and I wasn’t involved or hurt,) but what made me sick to my stomach and clench up my throat was that amount of people who sped right on past without even attempting to stop and help.
The driver of the pickup was an older gentleman and was pretty shook up and, I’m sure, in shock, but thankfully not critically injured himself. We were in a dangerous spot ourselves when we stopped, and on the opposite side of the highway from the pickup, so we continued to the airport after making sure the driver was safe and able to wait for police and ambulance and that the other citizen who stopped was able (and willing!) to take care of the rest from that point. It didn’t appear the driver of the pickup even had a cell phone…I felt so bad for him. : (
Can you imagine if nobody had stopped??!
That’s the question I thought about the rest of the way to the airport.
Which quickly led me to thinking about how many times I’ve been the one involved in a life wreck.
It put me into a place of deep thought (but with a well-activated nervous system) …about how we could have seen someone killed in front of us, one or more of us in our car could have gotten seriously injured or killed that morning, or we could have seen and been involved in a compounded highway mass tragedy if the speeding cars had been spaced within even a car length’s difference at that particular time and place.
But life went on.
We got into a plane that morning to sit by an old man holding an iPad and stock report papers who was quite consumed with things that obviously mattered, who didn’t want to sit by or have anything to do with us (and he really didn’t know how close his luck was to not having us there) especially our baby.
But there we were. All of us in a row.
And here we are today, still living this life.