Impact
It was just an instant.I was following the truck too closely. I was in a hurry: "Sunday driving" is for speed not for pleasure. I inched over the center line to see if passing this dawdler was feasible. Nope. Oncoming traffic was in abundance. I sighed, rolled down my window and turned up the radio. I adjusted the rearview mirror. I studied my reflection for a minute. Could those tired eyes be mine? They looked too old. A harsh glare stung my eyes. I squinted, averting my eyes from the mirror, for an instant.
I heard, through my open window the unmistakable squeal of brakes.
I could smell burning rubber as tires skidded across the burning asphalt.
I took in everything in slow motion: methodically recording each sound, smell, sight, without the slightest emotion. I was a numb observer as I watched the truck in front of me hit a car attempting to pass in a no-passing zone: head on. A second car joined the collision sending the truck airborne flipping back towards my windshield. Out of control. Data entry. Without feeling. I was unable to move.
I closed my eyes comforted by the fact that I was ready to die. I waited for the impact as this dream ended a new one began. It was just and instant, a flicker.
I was waiting on the porch of the house that we moved from when I was three. Waiting for Daddy to get home from work.
I was afraid of the face on the grandfather clock that belonged to my dollhouse. I would throw it into the closet, turn the key and run down to my mother.
I rode my red tricycle down the driveway with my Cabbage Patch Kid secured to the handle bars with hair-ribbons.
The neighbor boy, Tent, threw sand in my eyes. I never forgave him.
I found a robbin's nest in the lattice work of our patio. The eggs were perfect, soft blue.
At Halloween the costumes scared me and I cried myself to sleep.
The movers packed all of our boxes and I thought that the Smurfs died inside the TV.
We found a Strawberry Shortcake glass in the new house. I took it as a sign that this was a good move.
I got my first bike: purple, with a kick stand and pom poms.
I could hear the crackle of fire. I continued recording my phonics lesson. The grease fire that had started under my nose destroyed our home. For years the sound of boiling liquids (especially if it started to boil over) would send me into a fit of hysterics. We dug through the ashes there was little worth saving.
We tried to wash the smoke from our clothes, our stuffed animals suddenly all had matted hair and soot stains. People showed up on our doorstep for months with bags of groceries. We had to eat foods we didn't like. My mom cried a lot.
We slid down Gramma's stairs on mattresses while she was at work.
Mom would sing me to sleep. "As the deer panteth for the waters so my soul longeth after you."
Uncle Sid gave me Minnie Mouse. She wore blue.
We flew kites, the big one got away. Dad and Uncle Dick chased it for miles. Ever since that we have to tie kite strings to our belt loops.
We rode the motorcycles in summer and the snowmobiles in the winter.
We would sled down the front hill. I cried whenever snow touched my skin on the inside of my wrist because it "hurt." I built snow castles. We made a video to sent to Grandma and Grandpa in Florida while the baby cried at the top of the stairs.
Grandpa put on rollerskates to teach me. He fell at the bottom of the driveway and Grandma get really mad.
We met dad at the park for lunch. He pushed us on the swings and talked to us about lawn mowers.
I went camping with my Grandparents. They bought a bike to take on camping trips. I totally wiped out on gravel and I skidded up my neck, chin, elbows, palms of my hands, knees, and most painfully my stomach. Grandpa carried my sobbing body to the camper where gravel and glass were picked out of my skin for days.
We made cleaning videos for while our parents were out.
I heard my brother call KFC "Chicken Hut."
Scotty was toddling down the driveway and he fell and broke his one and only tooth out of his mouth. He had to wear this retainer/spacer thing. He hated it. He would always try to get rid of it. At Christmas he even put it down grandma's garbage disposal.
When Simon was born three days before the mother/daughter banquet we dressed him up as a little girl so that he could come with us. That really confused a lot of people in our church for quite some time.
I came back from camp. When they asked me how it was I said, "God and I are like this," and crossed my fingers to indicate that we were the best of friends.
Every Sunday after church Abby and I would declare that we were "sticky-glued" and couldn't be separated so our parents had to decide who was taking the both of us home for the afternoon.
My dad tossed me into the air and it scared me to death. Uncle Steve thought it was funny. Dad said, "she'll get used to it."
Dad would tickle us till we screamed and then give us horse back rides. We were too impatient to wait our turn so he gave all three of us rides at the same time.
We used to light candles, listen to the Bubble Music on the record player, and make shadow animals.
As a family tradition as soon as the movie ended everyone dances during the credits, always!
Skyler still leaves the room anytime he thinks that the characters are about to do something embarrassing in a movie.
I call shows movies.
I say cement (sa-ment).
My family calls me Fisha.
I used to deliver papers to the "interesting lady."
We build giant sand castles on the beach.
Easter Egg hunts are competitive to the point of scrapped knees.
Each memory captured in an instant, remembered in a moment. My life flashed before my eyes. I smiled. It was a good life. The impact was certain. Death is inevitable. Today or tomorrow. But I have been blessed. These tired eyes have smiled and cried. I have lived and died. I have laughed. I have been blessed.
What would you see?
posted by Trisha @ 10:50 PM
