Blink

So here's how my day started yesterday ... just like every other morning of my life starts. Get out of bed. Take Ollie outside to pee. Bring Ollie inside and feed him. Take a shower. Blow dry my hair. Gel my hair. Put on makeup. Brush my teeth. Get dressed. Put on my shoes. Take Ollie back outside to poop. Bring Ollie inside and give him his pill. Take my pills. Eat a spoonful of peanut butter so my pills don't make me puke. Make myself a breakfast I can eat in the car. Pack my lunchbox. Give Ollie some snuggles and a treat. Grab my backpack, lunchbox and water bottle and get in the car. Feel guilty for leaving Ollie. Get out of the car and go back inside to give him another snuggle and tell him I love him. Get back in the car. Get on the interstate to drive to work. Eat my on-the-go breakfast. Complain about all the construction on the interstate. Get to work ... oh, wait ... instead of getting to work like I normally do, yesterday I spent an hour or so parked on the shoulder of the interstate in my smashed-up Subaru waiting for the police to arrive and write up an accident report. Don't worry, I'm okay, just sore knees and achy shoulders ... my beloved little Subie car took quite a beating, though, and had to be towed to the body shop. I'm still waiting for the word on whether it's repairable ... poor little car.

I had a rough time going to sleep last night, partly because of the stormy weather (which you all know I absolutely love ... not) but also because every time I closed my eyes, I felt like I was in the car crash all over again. No matter how hard I tried, my brain just refused to stop the instant replay of the moment of impact ... that, combined with all the thunder and lightning, kept me awake until the wee hours of the morning. By the way, I had a hard time deciding if Ollie's contented snoring as he lay cuddled up next to me last night was adorable or annoying ... I mean, come on, how dare my little wiener dog be able to snooze away like that when I couldn't get to sleep? When I finally did go to sleep, I dreamed about tornadoes and floods and Ollie getting into a fight with a coyote and being on a plane that crashed into the ocean and living on a deserted island with Ollie and a cute little monkey named Penelope. I'm quite certain my life-saving head doctor will have a field day with that info for sure.

Now here's the thing, friends ... it's been more than 30 years since I've been in a car accident. I know that may be super hard for some of you who've ridden with me to believe, but it's true. As I was sitting in my car on the side of the interstate yesterday morning, I suddenly realized that all those years of driving excellence had come crashing down around me in a moment's notice ... in less time than it took me to blink, I went from being an excellent driver to being a driver who had a major wreck. It wasn't until this morning, however, as I hauled my achy, sore body out of bed that I realized how often that holds true in so many different areas of life. In less time than it takes to blink, a doctor can say the words, "You have a terminal illness," and someone goes from being healthy to dying. In less time than it takes to blink, a relationship ends, and people go from being together to being apart. In less time than it takes to blink, a job is lost, and a person goes from making a living to struggling to provide for their family. 

But you know what? That in less time than it takes to blink works the other way, too. In less time than it takes to blink, the doctor can say the words, "It's not cancer," and fear is instantly replaced with relief. In less time than it takes to blink, a person can meet a new friend and go from being lonely to having someone to hang out with. In less time than it takes to blink, someone lands a job and goes from wondering how they will make ends meet to being able to pay all the bills. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can be thankful that I wasn't injured in the accident yesterday. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can appreciate the people who love me. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can say, "Thank you." In less time than it takes me to blink, I can draw another breath ... live another moment ... smile another smile ... help another someone who's hurting. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can live in the moment and love like there's no tomorrow.

When I was playing with Ollie this evening, there was one more thing I couldn't help but acknowledge ... I took being a good driver for granted. I didn't even begin to appreciate the gift of being accident-free for all those years. I'll let you mull that one over for a while, but I'll give you a hint ... it's got nothing to do with cars and everything to do with people. Yep ... mull that one over for a good long while ... a good, good, good long while indeed. And while you're at it, ponder this closing quote from a dear friend ... take no one for granted, my friends, because in less time than it takes to blink ...

"Cars can be replaced. Good people cannot."