Tonight, after George finished supper, he had to run out quickly to do a few things. He left while the girls and I were still eating supper. It was a pleasantly warm day so our balcony sliding doors were wide open.
While we were eating dessert (oh hello blueberries, *swoon*), I heard the screaming of brakes outside and I wasn’t 100% sure but I thought I heard a car hitting something. I rushed to the balcony and peered outside; we have an intersection outside so I thought there had been an accident. I didn’t see anything other than a car a little further across the crosswalk than it should have been so I assumed that someone thought they could beat the yellow light and then changed their mind at the last minute.
We finished eating and I had just started clearing the plates when I heard sirens. That’s not unusual, but the sirens didn’t get further away. In fact, it sounded like they stopped right outside. I went to the balcony again and saw fire trucks, an ambulance, and a police car.
I rushed out and tried to see what had happened but the trees on our front property blocked the view. I could see, though, that everything seemed to be happening right at the driveway of our parking lot.
Of course, Hayley and Breanna were out on the balcony with me and were very curious about what was going on but all that was running through my head was, “I don’t know when that screeching of brakes happened. I can’t remember how much time passed between when George walked out that front door and when the brakes screeched. Why can’t I remember how much time went by?!”
I didn’t want to alarm the kids, especially Hayley who understands more, so I said, “hey, let’s go downstairs and see what’s going on, get your shoes on!” Meanwhile, what my BRAIN was really saying was, “oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod did someone hit George and if so, is he okay?”
We went downstairs and walked over to where the yellow tape had already been put up and although I felt guilty, I breathed an enormous sigh of relief when I saw a minivan and a burgundy car, neither of which belonged to us. Then I alleviated my guilt when I noticed that although some people looked shaken up and some were being treated by medics, there didn’t appear to be any urgency so no one seemed to be seriously injured.
The minivan had a busted read bumper but the car was crumpled around the hood and looked like it would cost an awful lot to fix up. Clearly the minivan was leaving the parking lot and got rammed by someone going way too fast, coming up the street. Brilliant.
By the time we had been back upstairs for five minutes, we heard the beeping noise of an ambulance backing up and they headed towards the hospital but didn’t turn on sirens so I guess everyone was fine. Thank goodness.
Still. Just that thought on repeat, not knowing if the timing was such that someone could have hit George as he pulled out of the parking lot, or even hit him as he walked towards the garbage bin to toss out our trash on his way to the car… Well.
We’re not perfect. Like most couples we argue and fight, sometimes about stupid things, sometimes about important things but in stupid ways. But let me tell you, there is nothing like the feeling of your heart pounding up in your THROAT to make you realize that none of those things are all that important when it all comes down to it.
I’m glad no one was hurt, but I’m extra glad he wasn’t.