In a car accident, there is only time to do one thing: react. Are my children okay, am I okay? Call 911. I have been in several of these situations. A few of them were minor ones, where there was only a dent to worry about, paperwork to fill out, insurance to deal with. And there have been a couple bigger incidents. I was in a rollover accident. While time seemed to slow down as if we were spinning in a lake of dark brown molasses, the result were the same: am I okay? Are my friends okay? Go get help. I wasn't afraid. There wasn't any time for such an emotion.

Yesterday, I was driving down a somewhat small road when I came to a red light. My thoughts were occupied on trying to plan my route into the city when the light changed to green. Not in any rush to get to my destination, I slowly started to accelerate. A flash of white in the corner of my left eye. Swerving, I slammed on my brakes. The smell of burnt rubber hot in my nose. The car sped on his way. Not even a second went by. I was completely fine. My son was still sleeping in the back. Life was back to normal. There was time for fear.

All I wanted to do in that moment was go running into the arms of my husband and have him stroke my hair and kiss my forehead. However, he was hours away blissfully unaware that life as we knew it almost came to an end. So I settled for a phone call, scaring him half to death when he answered his phone to a hyperventilating wife. Due to my other encounters and the fact that I'm acutely aware that these wonderful machines can in fact kill me, I decided that I was in no conditions to try and navigate the crowded streets of the city. I turned back around and tried to take the "safest" way home.

Nothing happened. I struggled that day with feeling a mixture of anger and extreme thankfulness. Mostly angry because had the car hit me, he would have hit the side where my son was peacefully resting. Yet, I know that I have been so blessed. Had I been on the phone, had I been in a hurry, had I been changing the radio station, there would have been a different story to tell, or perhaps there would have been no one left to tell any story at all.