Do not get hit by a car! I repeat, do not. Get hit. By a car.
Sure, I guess that goes without saying. It’s not like I sought the accident on August 9. It’s not like I wanted it, aimed for it, and was unaware of how shitty it would be to be hit by a car. I guess, I just don’t know what else to say.
It’s been over three weeks since the accident and I still haven’t really begun to process that it really happened. I mean, obviously, logically speaking, I’m aware of it having happened. I know that I was driving my e-bike in the bike lane, legally crossing an intersection because I had the green light, when all of a sudden I was hit, thrown 10+ feet into the air, landing in the road and then… Actually, I’m not sure what happened after that. Truth is, I don’t even remember any of the things written above. I don’t even remember leaving work before the accident. Most are saying that’s a blessing, and I suppose it is, but it messes with you when a whole chunk of time is missing from your memory. Even if it was forgotten/erased/removed to protect me from the trauma.
Truth is, this whole ordeal is a mind-fuck. I don’t remember the night of the accident, and I barely remember a good chunk of my time in the hospital. It’s certain that I suffered a concussion, though I’m told it was mild to moderate - so is my memory vague and spotty because of that? Or is my brain protecting me?
This is my third car accident in 2 years! 2 fucking years! And each were pretty fucking serious. If you’ve been a long time reader, or perhaps have only visited a few times but serendipitously read my post “Breath Away” (Oct 2022), you already know about the car accident wherein a motorcyclist clipped the back of my vehicle and died in my arms. But I was also in a car accident this past February. I didn’t post about it though because I was in the midst of my “Search for Happiness” project. It was a doozy though, where I hit a car from behind because they were unexpectedly at a dead stop in the middle of the highway. Thankfully, the only injuries sustained were by me, a broken right hand, but still. It was not an untraumatic event. And now this…
What is the universe trying to tell me?
After the first incident, I understood it as telling me I wasn’t meant to be a paramedic. Looking back now, it seems silly to have interpreted it that way, but what’s done is done. After the second, I firmly believed it was telling me I shouldn’t drive anymore - that me behind a wheel was simply a risk not worth taking. Again, perhaps a silly interpretation as none of these accidents were due to reckless or bad driving - they were simply accidents. But now, what? What am I supposed to think?
Each accident was progressively worse. The first, I was unscathed physically, the second I received only a broken hand, as frustrating and debilitating as it was, there are worse. And now, the third, I’ve a broken hip, knee, and sprained hand (yes, the same one). Is the next going to kill me? Or am I just being silly? Or dramatic?
When I was a child, I had a nightmare where I could see my own funeral. My body being made up, the wake, the funeral, everything. It creeped me out, especially as it didn’t shed any light on how I died. It seemed as though I just did. But when I woke in the early morning, feeling off and queezy, the letter “C” was ever so prominent in my brain. Now, I don’t believe in all things psychic, but I do believe in some. I can’t deny it when I know people who have a touch of the gift. And so, for the longest time, I believed it was a sign that Cancer was going to take me - hence the “C”. But what if this whole time, it was a “C” for car crash?
Okay, I’m letting my very active and creative imagination get the better of me. While I may believe in some of the psychic arts, I don’t believe one has any way of knowing when or how they will perish. But still, it all gives me the heebee jeebees.
I have to admit, for the first time in my life I can honestly say I have fear in me. Thankfully, it’s not debilitating. I’ll still go out, walk my dog, go to events, ride in a car when necessary, etc. I refuse to let fear rule me in any way. But I can’t deny the little tinge of fear at the back of my heart. Will today be the day? Perhaps this will allow me to begin truly living my life to its fullest, as though any day could be my last. Most would wish to be able to do so, but we all get bogged down with responsibilities, upsets, the trials and tribulations of life. And I haven’t forgotten those, nor will I ever.
But I want to live. I want to go after the things I want. I want to experience the things I’ve dreamt of since I was young. I want to nurture the relationships with those I hold dearest to the utmost possibility. I want to see Italy again. I want another family vacation with my children. I want to visit the lands of my ancestors. I want to help as many people as I can. I want to make those who feel alone and isolated loved. I want to sell a piece of my art. I want to publish one of my books, and sell one of my screenplays. I want to perform a few of my songs for a crowd of thousands again. I want to put my music out there for anyone who wants to listen. I want to marry my husband again, because our love has only deepened, strengthened, and grown, over the last twenty years. And in addition to all that, I want to somehow make a difference.
Just like anyone else, I have a ton of wants, but I have no idea what life has in store for me. Perhaps this was the universe trying to wake me up - telling me to get my ass in gear and make things happen for myself. To stop just living - or surviving - and really start living mindfully. I really don’t know. One thing I am grateful for however, is that I still have my sense of calm and clarity.
I guess it’s only natural that most people have intimated that I must, or should be, so angry at the driver. After all, she did take an illegal left turn on a red light. Clearly she was either distracted, or perhaps is a fucking idiot, as some have suggested. But in all honesty, I feel sorry for her. She is a young girl, half my age. It was late at night with a special street festival going on. She was likely out with friends, having a good time, and just misread the light or, not paying close enough attention. Of course it sucks that she hit me. Of course I’m frustrated that I have several months of rehabilitation and other challenges ahead of me. I can’t work, and will likely not be approved for EI because it will be my second claim this year - but I’m not certain about that yet. Yes, I have a plethora of reasons to be angry at her and yet, I’m not. I’m concerned about her mental health. I hope that she knows I am, and will be, okay. I hope that she knows that these things happen, and I know she didn’t mean for it to happen. I hope that she isn’t angry at herself, or riddled with guilt, or afraid to get behind a wheel again. Essentially, I just hope that she’s ok.
Shit happens. That’s just the honest truth. A million little things had to go a specific way for me to get hit that night. If I’d left work just a little earlier or later… If she’d seen my headlight coming up the path… If my husband had come to get me instead… etc. Etc. I could go on and on. That’s why I have to find a reason. For some reason, I was supposed to get hit that night. Like I said, I can’t fathom what it is yet, but it will become clear to me. Maybe not anytime soon, but sometime. For now, I just have to make the best of it all. Thankfully, I’ve been practicing that for the last several years now. And hey! Maybe that’s at least part of the reason it happened - to give me a chance to practice positivity, to lead with kindness, and my all time favorite, patience. And so perhaps, I can be grateful. At least I’m alive.
Ⓒ September 2024. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.
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