I was driving innocently today. I had just dropped off my two oldest children in Stafford, VA to go back with their father. I was in my Prius compact car, enjoying the winter wind through my window, while listening to Zak Bagans’ song “In My Dungeon”…
Sidebar (see brilliance below):
I noticed out of the corner of my right eye – an 18 wheeler on the exit ramp coming onto Interstate 95 South.
Have you ever been to Virginia? On Interstate 95? Wacko drivers. Avoid it.
Still enthralled in listening to my favorite song of my very brilliant idol I noticed something was off.
This 18 wheeler had nothing on the back of his bed. His bed was high. He was coming off of the exit ramp at a good 50 MPH. I was in the middle lane. It struck me then like something out of an 80’s sitcom when the answer to the question just suddenly appears within such a short time span. He was not stopping.
This truck continued to swerve and he was coming into my lane.
“He doesn’t see me. Oh my God. He doesn’t see me.”
Prius owners unite: we understand we blow the concept of the “blind spot”.
I was clutching the wheel in a panic. There was nowhere to go.
But wait. There was.
Before I could blink and say “I love cats” – I was underneath the bed of his truck. My compact Prius wedged between his bed and tires.
I began to beep. Scream.
What good will this do me NOW?
Ever seen National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation?
It can really happen. My life began to flash before my eyes. I could see my children’s faces, hear their laughs. I saw bright lights around. I could hear my husband’s voice “You’re my everything”…
Oh my God. I’m dying.
This was it. I was about to see the pearly gates of Heaven – witness the miracles that so exist from those who speak of near death experiences. For us Ghost Adventures fans, I was about to become one. This was my day. February 17, 2014. Age 34. She loved coffee, scary movies, her husband, her children, football, beer and nachos. I could see my obituary.
I had one out. While saying a Hail Mary – praying like I had always been taught in my Catholic church that I hadn’t visited in years after many thoughts of wondering about my faith – I was praying like I never had before.
Dear God: please, I am going to swerve to the third lane, I cannot see out my side view mirror. Please, don’t let there be a car. Help me. I cannot leave my babies. I cannot leave my husband, my family, my kitty cat Macy. Please.
I gave myself an ultimatum. I kept my hands gripped to the wheel and I swerved.
Today my friends, I witnessed a miracle.
As it turns out an angel in a gold Honda Civic had stopped traffic in the third lane. He had seen my plight. He had stopped them 1/4 of a mile back to allow me time to swerve back in the lane without hitting anybody. My car went off the road – and then something took control of my hands. Instead of hitting the guard rail – I went back onto the road, and stayed in the third lane. I did not overcorrect. I did not hit anybody. My car had not a scratch.
Neither did I.
It’s like an umpire yelling when a man on 3rd steals home base:
I immediately began to sob. Still shaking I called my husband to hear his voice. I called my mother to hear hers.
Now home and on my couch with a cold beer I wonder:
What was it that saved me today?
Somebody knew it was not my time – and they made sure of it.
Could it have been my love of the song I was listening to keeping me calm?
Could it have been the thought of my husband, children, and family?
Could it have been that amazing, thoughtful gold Honda Civic?
Or was it something deeper?
I should have died today. I saw the lights, I heard the sounds, there was really no way to avoid it.
Yet I did.
A guardian angel, perhaps. A keeper of my soul.
Regardless, I’m home. I’m home where I’m obviously meant to be now.
To February 17, 2014: today was not my time. Someday it will be – but it was not today.
To the driver of the Mack Truck: learn to pay attention. You could have killed this mother of 3. And knowing me, and my love of the paranormal and Ghost Adventures, I would have haunted the living crap out of you.
Life is good.