I told stories in a small town near here last night, and noticed that while some folks still shoot little jokes out about the election, others fail to respond. It's a "let's get on with life," attitude that I can live with.
Things are beginning to settle down a bit, and it looks as though there is sincere interest on both sides of the field in helping Americans, instead of fighting over us. Florida's votes finally came in and the president won a tidy victory there, avoiding the dreaded re-count of the past; that's a profound relief to this native-born Floridian.
Speaking of living with something, I very much fear I saw death last night and it was more than a ghostly specter. Anticipating directions from my GPS, I turned too soon and had to take an alternate route or turn around. Tooling along on the highway, my destination almost in sight, a white truck blinked its lights at me.
"Oh, great... radar ahead," I thought, and slowed down. Well, law enforcement was indeed in the vicinity, but it appeared to have just arrived and they weren't trying to slow us down; they wanted us to stop. Just ahead was a dull red truck, nose down in a ditch, its rear end pitched high in the air. I could plainly see it was crushed into the passenger compartment. Something in my heart constricted when I saw it: someone's day had altered critically in only a moment's time.
As we waited, two cars drew up, doors slammed and several people rushed towards the crash. "Oh, no!" cried one. Another, her voice sucking inward on the words, said, "Oh, my God--no!" Panicked, they ran towards the truck, heedless of those trying to stop them. We watched from our cars, knowing heartbreak lay just ahead. I have no idea what happened or if the occupants lived or died, but pain was there and yes, the potential for death. It rides with us every time we enter our cars and take to the road, no matter how defensively we may attempt to drive.
Some time ago, I drove home in snow, making it up my hill with no problem. I couldn't, however, maintain a steady speed to access my sloping driveway and slid backwards, narrowly missing the ravine. There being two access points, I tried the other one. There was no way at all to get up enough speed to make that one, with the result that I slid sideways down the hill. Landing on a Confederate Rose and the light pole I came to a stop, but couldn't get out. I stayed there, trapped and cold, but unharmed until help arrived. I can only imagine what could have happened had I really lost control, missed the pole and the bush and careered down into a big tree at a greater rate of speed. Blessings come in interesting ways.
Take care out there, wherever you are. We've got to watch after one another--life, each moment of it, is precious to us all.
