"Ob-la-di Ob-la-da life goes on"

It's funny, he and I were talking about that song earlier in the evening. He thought that it wasn't the Beatles and I said that it was. Yes, life does go on. And all praises be to whatever God there is for that. I now have glimpsed my own mortality. Through the last 19 years, I have been reminded of death a few times, but this hits so much closer to home. Life is more frail than I can or care to convey, and life pushes on through more shit than seems physically possible.

He was in a car accident yesterday. A bad one, for the car. I went to the sight this evening and looked at it, and it was far worse than I had imagined. His car went over the curb and between a telephone pole and a large oak, scraping the pole as it passed. It went through a tree, not a large tree but a tree none the less, down a ten foot hill and skidded to a stop on it's side, just a few feet shy of a second large oak. The car was in tatters. After being towed yesterday, bits and pieces, especially of glass, were all over the grass and ivy when I went back. A headlight, cover for a side view mirror, hub cap, piece of bumper...

Last night is a blur of time and space. The wreck, probably around 1:30. He and David racing off towards the hospital. Coming back to pick me up minutes later. The ferverant praying in between. Cleaning him up at James'. Going to the hospital, finally. Calling the mothers, calling the cops, sitting beside him and waiting for the X-rays. And then the miracle. He is not dead. He should be, by all rights he should be. No broken bones, no major cuts, no blood loss. Only a small cut beside the eye, and a few minor scrapes.

One of the people who is most dear to me on this planet should be dead now. I am numb to implications of that scale. If I think too hard on it, I find myself close to tears at the chance of death and gift of life. The feelings of terror at loss and frailty with gain are overpowering.

God grant that this never happen again.