The Day I Became the Luckiest Girl in the Unluckiest Way

2009 started out with a bang for me, literally. On the afternoon of January 1st, Will and I headed to the local HEB to do some grocery shopping. The store is about one mile from my house, so it's a route I travel frequently.

The sun was shining high in the sky and was directly in my eyes. As I pulled into the left-hand turn lane to turn into the parking lot, I was having a hard time seeing the oncoming cars. That, combined with Will crying in the back seat (he also had the sun in his eyes), led to me turning left when I thought the road was clear, only to see at the last minute a man on a motorcycle. I hit him with the passenger side of our Chevy truck.

The thud I heard as he bounced off the side of the truck made my stomach turn. I tried to pull into the parking lot to get out of the road, but the car was scraping something on the bottom--for a moment I feared I was dragging the motorcyclist's body. I stopped immediately and turned around to make sure Will was okay, which he was. I heard myself saying over and over again "please God, no". I begged Him not to have had the worst happen: that I killed someone.

I tried to open the driver's side door, but it was jammed. I hopped out of the passenger side, fearful of what I would see behind my truck. To my extreme relief, the motorcyclist was conscious and ALIVE. A man of about 55, he was on his knees and bleeding from his face, and it was clear he had broken his arm or his wrist. He cursed at me (as I would have expected him to do) as he was crawling to the side of the road (he was still in the middle of the road at this point--how another car didn't hit him is just one of many miracles in this story).

I called 911 and before I knew it, EMS and the fire department were on the scene. The rest is sort of a blur to me as I talked to the police and watched from the sidelines as the EMS strapped the man (whom I later learned was named Tim) to a body board (typical protocol they told me, for this type of accident) and took him away in the ambulance. I was crying at this point, saying how sorry I was, how much of an accident it was, but the man couldn't hear me.

The man's nephew showed up on the scene (somehow, the guy had enough presence of mind to call his nephew after the accident--apparently the nephew lives just down the road). I heard the nephew asking the police what had happened, and I jumped in to let him know it was irrevocably my fault. The nephew turned in my direction and when he saw me crying, holding my son, he immediately told me it was okay. He introduced himself to me (Paul was his name, and he looked to be about my age) and I saw that he was wearing a shirt with a bible verse on it. I was thankful this was a man with compassion for someone who didn't really deserve it.

By this point, Billy had made his way to the accident site and was there with me. They had to tow our truck; it was not drivable. Off went the ambulance, off went our truck, and I was free to go home. Later that day, we talked to Paul and he said Tim was in the hospital with a broken arm but otherwise seemed to be doing fine, thank God. Of course, I was still feeling terrible about the whole thing, replaying in my mind how things could have been so much worse, how my life could have changed in an instant. I pondered, and still do, why I was spared this fate when others, who have just as innocently gotten into this kind of accident, have fared so much worse. Was it all so random?

This thought was still on my mind when I went to church that Sunday. I couldn't shake the thought of this being a random incident in which God had no part. That's when I saw Paul, the nephew, walking up the aisle of the same church to receive communion. What are the chances that he would be at the same mass at the same church? I hadn't seen him since the day of the accident and I was nervous and hesitant to have him see me now. I decided that I would try and sneak out of the back of the church after mass in order to avoid him.

Well, seems God had other plans. As I snuck out the back and opened the door, there was Paul. He hadn't intended to run into me, but we were literally entering the hallway at the same time. He was surprised to see me, but he was very gracious and walked me outside of church--turns out he was there that day for his four-month old son's baptism. I asked him how his uncle was doing and Paul said he needed to have surgery on his arm, but he was home and would be fine. I again apologized and told him how horrified I was that the entire thing happened. Yet again, he told me that he knew it was an accident and said how awful it must have been for me; to have Will in the car with me when it happened. Here I was, the person that could have taken the life of Paul’s' loved one, yet he was showing me compassion.

Finally, I came to my car. This mass was extremely full and I had to drive around multiple times to find a parking spot--and where I ended up parking and entering the church is a side of the building I never go to. However, on this day it turns out I was parked right next to Paul. We both commented on the coincidence...or was it?

So, on January 1st, 2009 I became the luckiest girl:
--Tim, the motorcyclist, was wearing a helmet and full leather body gear that ultimately protected him.
--Will was safe.
--Another car did not run over Tim even though he was in the middle of a busy road.
--A compassionate nephew eased my fears and guilt.
--Tim survived.
--My life would go on as normal.

Although it hasn't gone on as normal. I am more thankful, more aware, more blessed. Life is a tenuous thing that can change in an instant--and mine did--but in a way that made me more full of grace than ever before.