Crash

Not yet. I can't. Maybe once we move out, and after we drive down, and then move in, while Peter is in Borneo, and then gear up to start a new job in a new school in a new grade level (possibly). Not then. Crashing is not an option until next June.

Last week, however, we did. Literally. I have been driving for nearly twenty years, and riding in cars for fifteen before that, and my first crash was a month ago, a small rear ender on a local street. My second was last week. I was cruising in the right hand lane of the Mass Pike, heading west, kids singing along to kiddie reggae in the back seat, slowing down because I was coming in to heavier traffic because they had just cleared a car fire a few miles up. Without warning there was an explosion from behind, the back window shattered, and we were thrust into the fast lane, then slammed again on my side of the car. More windows exploding. As I looked up to see all of I-90 barreling down on us, I figured it was going to turn in to a pile up. Luckily everyone else was moving slow enough to stop.

I am a panicker. When there is an emergency, when I am at all threatened, I fall apart. I get angry, I cry, I yell. I am a mess. I have learned to curb these disastrous instincts in the classroom, but I am simply not a cool person. That's why I married Peter.

But from the moment of impact I felt a relative calm. I checked to see if the kids had all their limbs. Check. (I already knew they were alive because they were screaming.) No blood? Check. I grabbed my wallet and phone. Got out of my door, removed the kids, and scrambled across the highway, which was easy because traffic was entirely stopped. They were still screaming as I deposited them on the other side of the guard rail. I wanted to see if the other driver (also screaming) was okay, to ask what happened, to go back to the car and get some water, but it was clear that the only thing I could do was convince these two little people that what just happened was not the most terrifying thing possible. Although it basically was. They both kept crying, "The window broke, Mama! The window broke!"

So I spin. "Wow, guys, you know what just happened? That was amazing! We just got in to a really bad car crash and we are FINE! Everyone wiggle your toes. Toes fine? Wiggle your fingers. All good? Necks? Arms? Look at that. We are amazing! I can't believe it. We are SO TOUGH! We were just driving along and all of a sudden there was a huge crash, the windows broke, and we hit the rail. And we are totally fine! That was actually awesome! Boy, are we going to have one great story to tell! Wow, look at that... It's a fire engine! Cool! That's all for us, guys! Whoa, look at all the stopped cars. Hey, here comes the ambulance! Cool! Oh my gosh, you know what? WE ARE GOING TO GET TO RIDE IN AN AMBULANCE! Sick! The crash was scary but we are totally okay AND we get to ride in that wicked cool ambulance:?! I can't wait to tell Papa!" Etc. Etc. Etc. For about three hours. I exhausted myself spinning the worst accident I had ever survived into the coolest moment of the whole summer. But I think they bought it. Anything less was not acceptable.

Once Oma arrived and stayed with the kids while I went in for my check-up with the Doc, I sobbed. My body shook and I let myself ponder for a moment what may have happened if... If we had jumped the guard rail. If another car or cars had not stopped. If... But by the time I was out of the ER I was back to my old line. "This is awesome! We are so lucky. We get air conditioning, television, and Cheetohs!"

And really it was "wicked cool" that we were "totally fine." A couple of tiny scratches was all we had to show for our car getting totally totaled. I emerged with the realization that cars are made to crash... and that life is a precious matter of inches. I slept with the kids in my bed that night, something I haven't done in over a year, and it felt good to lie there listening to them breathe. While this whole moving business is an exhausting hassle, we are "totally fine," and what a fucking miracle that is. Bring on the inconveniences.