The hairs on the back of my neck bristled when I slammed into the truck in front of me. It was Friday, June 21st and I was living one of my worst nightmares—a car accident. Crap! I had looked away momentarily and in that instant, I hit the truck in front of me. My mind was bombarded with all that comes with a fender bender—insurance adjusters, body shops, car rentals, deductibles, and most likely higher premiums. While I was pondering my situation, the man I hit emerged from his car. He didn’t seem upset. In fact he was rather pleasant and asked me if I was okay. I thanked God in that moment for both of us being okay. I couldn’t say the same about my car. The front was jacked up. My beautiful almost new car looked like the hoopties I used to drive back in the day. His truck had minor damage. We exchanged information and before I left the scene, I called my insurance agent to get the ball rolling.
By the following Wednesday, I had a rental. Okay, things are moving along. That was until I left my bag at the gym and rushed back to get it. I parked the rental and made my way across Pico Boulevard. I was in such a hurry, I didn’t notice the small crater in the middle of the street and my foot slipped right in. I screeched as my ankle twisted like a pretzel. On all fours, I looked up as the traffic headed my way. That’s all I needed, to be flattened on Pico Boulevard. The cars stopped and I hobbled to the sidewalk, barely able to walk. Two ladies saw me and one of them suggested I remove my shoe. Duh! Why didn’t I think of that? I was able to move my foot, so I knew my ankle wasn’t broken, but it was beginning to look like I had Elephantiasis. I managed to get my bag and make it back to work. Limping, I got a lot of stares and inquiries about my condition. By the end of the day, I was torn about going to the doctor. I abhor doctor visits as much as I do car accidents. I decided I would work it out with ice packs and elevation.
By Friday, I was beginning to feel centered again. That was before I stepped out of the house and noticed the shingles on a small section of the roof had been torn out. What the! It looked a hot mess. For a fleeting moment I wondered if we had been vandalized. As soon as I got to work I called my husband and upon seeing the damage, he called the police, who told him most likely a raccoon was the culprit. My husband got someone out and they too said it was an animal. They sprayed our attic to kill any rodents and informed us that in addition to the $750.00 they charged us, it would cost $7,000 for new installation. You got to be kidding me! We ended up getting the roof repaired and got other estimates for the installation—lower ones!
So let’s see, a car accident, a sprained ankle, and a damaged roof. Lord, what’s next? I should have kept my big mouth shut, because just as I had that thought, I received a call from my husband informing me that ‘some man’ had left a message on our house phone asking me to call him. This was a man my husband and never heard of and that I hadn’t spoken to in twenty-seven years. Why would he call my house and how did he get my number? Who does that? Didn’t he realize that people’s live change? After calming my husband down, I called the number the man had left on my voicemail. He talked to me as if I had just seen him. After I filled him in on my husband’s reaction, he apologized profusely and admitted that he had paid a service to find my number. Wow! When is the drama going to stop.
As a writer, I very familiar with drama. You can’t tell a good story without it. In fact, life’s a drama. We’re the characters and our lives are the story. As in any good story, things seem to go along smoothly and then all you know what hits the fan. We, the audience, sit on the edge of our seats wondering will and how the protagonist will get out of the valley. During all the aforementioned incidents, I stayed prayerful. Someone might think that what I experienced over a two-week period pales in comparison to other situations. They’re right. I’m not going through what Trayvon Martin’s parents are and so many others who are the victims of tragedy. But it is all relative. I’m happy to say, I’m on the other side of the chaos and very grateful. I know that in the future there will be other hazards, but I trust God will see me through!