Fatality

There was an accident on the beltline this morning. A car crossed the medium and slammed head on into two cars coming from the other direction. A semi parked across the lanes to prevent further chaos. One person died at the scene, two others were badly hurt.

They were just going about their day, expecting to arrive as usual. They woke up, took a shower, got dressed, packed their lunch, and went out the door. Expecting to arrive safely. Expecting to do what they normally do every day. Just driving along on a brilliant sunny spring morning — maybe they were listening to the radio and singing along as they drove — expecting everything to go smoothly.

If they’d known what was going to happen to them, would they have done anything differently? Would they have savored the moments a little more closely? Would they have hugged their kids a little longer and a little more tightly? Would they have taken the time to smell the fresh spring air?

We expect to get up each day and have a normal day. Why shouldn’t we expect so much? We live in America after all. We don’t have to worry about air strikes or suicide bombers or sniper attacks or shoulder fired rockets. We don’t have to worry about how we are going to fill our guts, our gas tanks, or get clean water to drink or wash ourselves with, or have a car to drive, or passable roads to drive them on.

A few people in this country do still struggle to find decent living conditions. They are the less “productive” members of society, the elderly, the mentally ill, people who are physically handicapped. Because they are perceived to be unable to contribute to our GNP, they are marginalized and left to fend for their selves or the mercy of charity. They struggle on the fringes of our society and live as if they were in a third world country.

The people caught in this fringe society cannot expect to ride on the roads, get good health care, have a living wage job, or even a warm place to sleep at night. Do we realize how lucky we are? What are we chasing when we speed down the beltline at 80 mph plus? Is it the promise of more? The promise of better?

Last night after I was done swimming laps, I walked out of the building and the beautiful warm spring breeze surrounded me. The smell of honeysuckle accompanied that air and as I looked out at the sky I saw the most beautiful remnant of a sunset, just barely visible in the western sky. I took a deep steady breath through my nose and shut my eyes. I tried to be totally in the moment. And I thought how lucky I was to have lived the life I have had. And I thought about my car (that runs) and my house and my family. I thought of all the interesting people I have known throughout my years here on earth. I thought that if I died tomorrow I’d be so lucky to have led this crazy life.

[It's not like this is a new thought or anything, it's just that it's good to remember this as we spend each precious breath. Each breath is golden. Each breath is a gift. How often do we act like the swine that this gorgeous world's pearls are cast before? How often do we grunt and snort at the idea of getting up, getting out, and enjoying this world? We who ignore the splendor of a sunset but pay attention to the garish and vituperative television set? (Matthew 7:6: Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.)]

The next moment I opened my eyes. A fiery spark appeared toward the southern part of my vision. It arched across the sky toward that dissolving sunset. It left a trail of embers as it shot across the heavens and I thought I could actually hear it sizzle as it became first brighter as it arced downward, and then ashen as it burned out. It was so thrillingly beautiful. It wasn’t so fleeting an apparition such as a typical shooting start might be. It lasted long enough, that if someone had been with me, I could have said; “Look! A falling star!” and they would’ve been able to catch sight of it.

That shooting star was like a signal flare. Not to warn me off, but to acknowledge my acceptance of the true brevity of our time here, and my thankfulness for the fortune that I am afforded. I saw that beautiful sign because I took the time to stop, look up, and look beyond the rattling cage we sometimes let our culture lock us inside.

I wonder who else was given the gift of that heavenly sight last night? Who else looked up at just that very second and saw that lovely ephemeral arc of light splash across the ocean blue sky. I wonder if by chance one of the victims involved in that horrible crash on the beltline this morning saw it. I wonder if at that very instant, they thought about how lucky they were.