Hmmm. I see some sort of connection here. Sue’s most vivid memory is her childhood car crash and then comes Janet with a story about her mishap.
I, too, experienced this phenomenon.
Now, it could be a coincidence that we all three share this type of event and that we write.
Or maybe there is something to it. Could it be we each suffered a specific type of brain burp while rolling around – or flying out of – the backseat? And the result of the brain burp is the compulsion to write. Sue claims it, I know I’ve got it, and Janet…well, she even pens poems about writing.
My incident involved a trip to the hospital. My mom drove, lest you think that my dad, Pat might have a finger in all of this. I occupied the back seat of said hurtling car.
The rest of the details are sketchy. I’m not sure whether we hit something or experienced a near miss but I do remember a rapid toss to the floor. Not really the floor, more like the bag of groceries residing there. I crushed a package of Oreos.
Somehow I ended up in the emergency room. I don’t know if they thought I may have another grocery item wedged somewhere but a rather cute doctor (okay, even five year old girls notice these things. Hello! Am I right romance readers?) sliced the straps of my new tank top so they could remove it. The adorable tank top that I’d only worn for a few hours.
So how about it writers…any childhood car accidents? Do your part for science, kids.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.