It is not the collision. It's not the airbags. It's not the thought of, what is our best friend going to think of me cracking up her van?
The moment that is still with me is seeing the van ahead of me stopped dead. I'm going 50. I brake, then brake fully, as distance closes far too fast. I don't know if I can do it.
I remember my surprise at seeing the rear view mirror skewed weirdly. I remember the gentleness of the airbag, like smushing onto a pillow. I thought it would be a hard, sudden strike that would embed my glasses into my skull, but it wasn't. That I had stopped in time and not hit the car in front wasn't enough. I remember steeling myself for a car behind to hit, and that we're about to be in a car crash. These thoughts all happened very fast.
I had just been to the airport, loading the borrowed van with Eileen and Dick (relatives of Robin from LA), their three grandchildren, and a mountain of luggage. They were going to lunch with us before boarding a cruise ship to Alaska for the week. “I can't find a place for my seatbelt,” said one of the kids at the airport. A suitcase blocked it, so I rearranged the van and made sure he, and everyone else, was belted in. That moment too is still with me. What would have been the consequences of a different decision? It was a hassle to rearrange the van, but I took the time to do it.
One by one I look at every passenger. “Are you OK? You? You?” Then I check with the van in front of me. Everyone OK here? Then behind me, the 93 LeSabre. She and her two kids are unhurt, and she's already called 911. I had tried, and couldn't get through, I thought. I couldn't hear Robin on the phone either, and much later, realized I didn't have a bluetooth on my ear anymore. My conversations were one way. Robin had the sense to call Eileen on her phone and I caught her up.
After the incident truck and the state trooper leave, we are all able to drive away. Lunchtime is a debrief session. Robin does trauma therapy on the two kids who are most distressed. Then the hastily hired town car came and takes our guests away to the cruise ship pier.
Holy smokes, Doug. Glad you're OK.
That was a good decision you get to carry the rest of your life.
Posted by: david adam edelstein | July 04, 2009 at 08:31 PM
Wow. Glad to hear everyone is ok.
Posted by: Aaron | July 04, 2009 at 08:51 PM
Wow. So, so glad you're all ok. And that you have an excellent trauma therapist around, yeah... I've been in that "person in front stops, i stop, person behind fails to stop" situation a few times. Very scary. Keep us posted on your process if you feel like it?
Posted by: Marni | July 04, 2009 at 09:52 PM