The thing about accidents is that the timing must be impeccable. It takes more precision than any fine-tuned art.
Because...
If you had been one second later
Or one second earlier
Stayed at the last place a minute longer
Or the weather had been different
If it had been a different time of day
Or someone else behind the wheel
If you'd been driving a car instead of a truck
Or if his vehicle had winter tires
If you had declined a shift
Or the other guy decided not to go watch the game
If any single, minute detail was different...
It wouldn't have happened.
But it did. Everything lined up just so. You can assign fault to somebody. Or nobody. God. Or Fate. Maybe Chance.
When the Unthinkable happens... then what? When you run to the car, hoping beyond hope that the other guy is okay. And you see him, and you know he's not. What then?
As it turns out, some people understand. It's happened to people before. They just don't talk about it every day. Some call. Some send flowers. No one casts blame. It must feel like a treadmill. A lot of effort, no destination. What if? Should I have? Could I have? The family... ?
I love you, Dad.
