Remnants of a life

May 23, 2007 at 1:52 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

On Friday evening I was taking the kids from my mom’s house, to the next town to meet Karma Hubby and offload kids before returning to moms. Traffic seemed a little slow, and then as we were almost at our exit, we saw a helicopter. The kids love seeing helicopters, but they always want to know if it is “daddy’s” taking sick kids to the hospital. I told them it looked pretty low for that, and that it was not Daddy’s. Then a police officer pulled up behind me and followed me all the way to the restaurant we were meeting at. He looked very somber. As I entered the parking lot, 2 minutes from when we saw the helicopter, I understood it all. There was a pickup truck that had come off the service road, plowed into a ditch and stopped when the truck crushed into the drainage pipe for the street. One look said no one survived. There were people standing about that had been in the restaurant when it happened. One man was even standing outside when it happened. He informed me that the man was purple when they were able to extract him, and he was pretty sure he was not alive. He was visibly shaken. As I gazed down on the truck, I saw a bag of golf clubs, and a car seat in the bed of the truck. The man informed me that no child was in the truck. No one knew his name, or where he was from. We later were told by the police who were removing the car that the man did die. I have tried for days to find out any info on the wreck, and have gotten no where. I have no idea who this man was, except he drove a truck, liked golf, and there is a child somewhere missing him. It gave the morbid thought of wondering what the remains of my life will look like to the outsider. Will I just be known for the contents of my car or home? I hope not. I hope that I remember this tragedy and never forget to tell those around me how much I love them, and to make sure that my life is in order for them.

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  1. I’ve had similar thoughts. Back in the 80’s when so many of my friends were dying, I helped out a lot with clearing out friends places and helping decide who should get what. As the possessions were packed up, it became less and less someones house and more just random groups of things. I remember some of those houses, but what it is, is an aid du memoir of my friends, a background, a setting for them, the friends I loved.

  2. That is just so sad:(


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