We've all had that experience. You're driving along, taking a sip of a drink or singing along to the radio or talking to your best friend. You're on the interstate, and traffic is light. That's a cause for celebration enough as it is. Suddenly, traffic screeches to a halt. I don't know about you, but that certainly fills me with at least a mild sense of irritation. As you become re-acquainted with your brake pedal, you think "there had better be a reason for all this traffic..." Sometimes there isn't. It's just an inexplainable feat of nature that cars like to stop on the highway for no apparent reason. Usually, though, there's an explanation.
Today, I was reminded of that reason. I was on my way home, wondering why traffic seemed to stop so suddenly. Luckily, I was one of the first cars in the slowdown, so I quickly assessed the situation and realized why cars on both sides of the highway were slowed down to almost 20. On the opposite side, about five cars were pulled over to the shoulder. Several people were running down the side of the road, and others were standing next to their cars making phone calls. One truck had a shattered windshield and a door that was crushed into its core. I thought to myself, "Wow, this must have been a really bad accident to involve so many cars." Then, I was confused because none of the other cars seemed damaged. Suddenly, a realization burst into my head. All these people weren't in the accident themselves; they had stopped to help someone who was trapped in the car.
What a sobering thought. Immediately, it filled me with warmth that a stranger, a modern day Good Samaritan, would stop to help someone in trouble. With all the stories of pain and anguish we're pummeled with each day, it's hard to remember that our world is still filled with such good. What kindness, what love, and what selflessness it must take to get out of your car on a 102-degree day in Texas to help someone in trouble. I consider myself a "nice" person, and I'm almost always willing to lend a helping hand, but I think I'd be stretching it if I said that I would jump out of my car to help someone. Wow.
Then, another thought rocked my brain. It seems to be the obligatory question I find myself asking whenever I witness an accident scene: What if that was me? Would I even be aware of all the people desperate to help me? Would I myself be desperate and fight to live, or would I be tired of pain and let myself slip away? Who would notice if I was gone? How long would my family mourn? What sort of legacy would I leave? In ten years, would my friends remember that I had once walked this earth? What would I miss the most?
You see, people that die in immediate accidents don't even have the luxury of a diagnosis where the doctor says, "You have six months to live." There is no time to mend broken relationships, visit dream destinations, or enjoy a long-awaited book. The end can be long and drawn out and filled with pain, but it can also be immediate, shocking, and irreversible. All endings have the potential to be tragic. Even if I am meant to end in a terrible accident, I don't want to be a tragic story of someone who lived their life for "If only..."
I have so many plans for my life, and yes: I make lists. I know that I won't mark off everything on my to-do list, and I know that I won't accomplish every goal I set. In my mind, I can have a happy ending without all that. At the end of the day, I count it as a happy ending if I smiled even once and if I told (and showed) at least one person that I love them. If I can do those two things, I consider the day to be just what it is: a beautiful piece of life. And that's good enough for me.
Stay safe, friends.
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