Yesterday, driving the interstate a few car lengths ahead, the black pick up truck must have slid on some ice at the other end of the bridge. I watched in horror as it slapped into a right angle to the road even as my foot went to the brake as my mind screamed don’t brake! Do not brake! at the same time it is responding if you don’t you’ll hit him!
These things happen so fast you can’t know for sure – but I think it was more the car’s abilities and technologies than my own that stopped our own slip into skid, but the pick-up truck was not so fortunate.
For a brief instant I thought all would be well as the truck simply faced into the median, but inertia had other plans and the truck propelled into the median, which has a steep middle. The truck flipped onto its top and into the opposite lanes.
The driver (we think his name is Gary) was thrown from the truck onto the roadway. He was alive at the scene as best we could tell, but his injuries were severe. His mother managed to crawl out from under the smashed top. She didn’t seem to be hurt, but she was in shock, so it’s difficult to know.
Several folk, we among them, stopped to render aid and as is so often the case, some who stopped were people with the needed skills – a fireman, a nurse, and others. Cell phones become the blessing of the moment as people are able to call quickly for help. All I managed to do was to silently pray, which is not nothing, but feels at the time so little.
Often have I heard folk speak about those who slow down passing an accident with scorn. But I think it’s nothing nefarious or nasty. I think they’re slowing down to make sure there’s help. And to say a small, whispered, just-a-little-guilty thanks that it wasn’t them, for how easily it could have been.
We’re praying for Gary and his mother this Thanksgiving Day as we hope to hear news of whether he survived. We’re saying our own (guilty) thanks that it wasn’t us this time. And we’re giving thanks for firemen and nurses and random folks with tools in their trucks ready to be used to help at a moment’s notice when a stranger lies on the pavement fighting to live when, just moments before, whatever life he led was heading down the highway blissfully unaware of what was to come.
Life is so tenuous as well as so precious, with each moment offering no guarantees of another. And so it is, for all the moments that have passed, I give thanks.
These things happen so fast you can’t know for sure – but I think it was more the car’s abilities and technologies than my own that stopped our own slip into skid, but the pick-up truck was not so fortunate.
For a brief instant I thought all would be well as the truck simply faced into the median, but inertia had other plans and the truck propelled into the median, which has a steep middle. The truck flipped onto its top and into the opposite lanes.
The driver (we think his name is Gary) was thrown from the truck onto the roadway. He was alive at the scene as best we could tell, but his injuries were severe. His mother managed to crawl out from under the smashed top. She didn’t seem to be hurt, but she was in shock, so it’s difficult to know.
Several folk, we among them, stopped to render aid and as is so often the case, some who stopped were people with the needed skills – a fireman, a nurse, and others. Cell phones become the blessing of the moment as people are able to call quickly for help. All I managed to do was to silently pray, which is not nothing, but feels at the time so little.
Often have I heard folk speak about those who slow down passing an accident with scorn. But I think it’s nothing nefarious or nasty. I think they’re slowing down to make sure there’s help. And to say a small, whispered, just-a-little-guilty thanks that it wasn’t them, for how easily it could have been.
We’re praying for Gary and his mother this Thanksgiving Day as we hope to hear news of whether he survived. We’re saying our own (guilty) thanks that it wasn’t us this time. And we’re giving thanks for firemen and nurses and random folks with tools in their trucks ready to be used to help at a moment’s notice when a stranger lies on the pavement fighting to live when, just moments before, whatever life he led was heading down the highway blissfully unaware of what was to come.
Life is so tenuous as well as so precious, with each moment offering no guarantees of another. And so it is, for all the moments that have passed, I give thanks.
Paryers for Gary and His mother- for all of you who stopped- for every person who reads this blog and give thanks. Our prayers make a difference folks- so pray!
ReplyDeleteMelissa
Amen and thanks - have heard today that he's alive, but don't know anything else. Hugs, Beth
DeleteAdding our prayers, Beth and giving guilty thanks too, that you are safe.
ReplyDeleteThank you for listening, for understanding and for praying. Got word indirectly that he's still alive, but don't know in what condition he's in. Heading to bed - hugs and love
DeleteThank You, Father/Mother God for the good people in the world.. Especially for sparing our Beth. Healing prayers for Gary and his mom.. So much to be thankful for this day.
ReplyDeleteMarilyn
Amen, amen, amen. Got word today (indirectly) that Gary's alive, but don't know his condition beyond that. God's goodness runs throughout.
DeleteGod uses us in so many ways, through prayer, through the skills he gives to us to serve through nursing, or simply through the love of a mother who surely stressed to her son on Thanksgiving Day, LIVE. Thank you for your prayers for Gary, I lifted up one of my own.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you and your mom.
Thank you, Judy and blessings back atcha, girlfriend! :-) Hugs, Beth
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