Priority Check

This afternoon I experienced one of the most horrific things I can imagine (and that's saying something). My three children and I had spent the morning at an art gallery, and stopped for ice cream to cap off the fun. We bought a few chocolate chip cookies for my husband, and stopped by his office to drop them off. As we got on the freeway headed toward home, we came upon an absolutely wretched car accident. All I saw were two overturned cars, people's limbs protruding. I pulled my car to the shoulder and shrieked at my kids to stay put. I got out and ran to the first car, a small sedan on its roof. An off-duty fireman yelled that there were people trapped inside but the doors were locked, and since I was small I was the only one who could crawl through the open window and unlock the door. I dropped to my knees and wiggled in. I saw three unconscious adults, one of whom was almost certainly deceased. There was a screaming infant in an unsecured carseat, and an unconscious small child. There was blood everywhere. I unlocked the door and unsnaked myself from the vehicle's window.

A doctor who also happened upon the scene said, "Is that your van over there? Is it air conditioned?" When I affirmed her, she grabbed the infant and told me to take the small hurt boy, and we sprinted to my car. My own kids' mouths hung open as this stranger and I took two bleeding, broken babies into their safe space. We had to get them out of the 110-degree heat until the paramedics arrived. I cradled the injured boy, swallowing my own terror and my concern for my children's sense of security. I followed the doctor's instructions, monitoring the boy's pulse and respiration. My 7-year old held onto the baby's car seat, doing the only thing he could think of to help. My 9-year old kept repeating, "It's okay, it's okay." My 6-year old just sat in stunned silence.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, the paramedics arrived. The doctor and I handed over the children. My kids and I drove home, discussing the importance of seatbelts and of feeling our feelings. We prayed for the victims, and asked God to help us navigate our own fear. I privately prayed for the strength to shore up my children. I shook.

When I got home, I tried to shake the picture of the inside of that overturned vehicle. My proximity to overwhelming devastation. I turned on Harry Potter and started dinner. I called my husband and asked him to come home. More than anything, I ruminated about the preciousness and fragility of life. The fact that things as we know them can change in an instant. The unpredictability of it all. How very, very trivial many of my worries are.

I don't know if I have a moral with this post. I am still shell-shocked and nauseated. I want you, my sweet friends, to remember these things: Always, always, always wear your seatbelts. Keep your damn cellphones put away. Hold your family close. And above all else, treasure your lives. They are not guarunteed.