On Sunday and Monday of this past Memorial Day weekend, I did not see my mother. On both days, I got into car accidents. Coincidence? I think not...not for this Italian Catholic.
I am a pet sitter by trade, and Memorial Day weekend is traditionally a very busy one. I was left little room to see my mother. Though I had intended to have her visit for a short period of time, or at the very least run in to say hello, the days wore on and the opportunities dimmed. Add in the car crashes and, well…
She was never far from my mind. In fact, she filled it to brimming. I had that all consuming feeling that I was doing something terribly wrong. I called the rest home multiple times to check in, and though I was assured she was well, I wasn’t convinced.
Crash #1 totaled my car on Sunday. The back wheel axle snapped in two and further damage was done to the underside. It appears the value of the car doesn’t touch the cost of the repair. Bye bye Honda Element!
Accident #2 happened on Monday. With the Element gone, I had to use my husband’s truck. (What a trusting fellow!) We call the truck the big behemoth. Redundant I know. I misjudged the space between a parked car and a pole and didn’t realize the whole right side of his nearly perfect truck was rubbing lovingly against the cement supporting beam. It is only when I alighted, congratulating myself on a great job fitting into such a space, that I realized the damage I had caused; his silver truck was a sunshine orange yellow all along the right side and dented in like the curve of a hungry man’s stomach.
Two accidents in two days for someone who has an excellent driving record. How can I believe it was anything but Karma?