Nights of Broken Glass
Sometimes I lose track of hours, of days. I am scattered in my focus dealing with household issues, elderly parent issues and paperwork. I step back and find I have taken little time for myself. There are days when I don’t even leave the house, let alone get dressed.
Thursday was one of those days. It was the day after I had spent a good hour on the phone with a lawyer about pursuing a malpractice case (re: husband), and that has been left hanging because the lawyer he recommended I speak to didn’t return my call. Yet.
So, Thursday, to distract myself from the anticipation of a legal call and all the details I had to spew again, I began working on a huge pile of paperwork for my mother’s annual re-certification for benefits. This event is as dreaded as some must feel for doing one’s income tax. It is a paper-chase for documents, a whirlwind of photocopying and a subsequent organization of what has flown out of my printer. Of course the printer stopped working for an hour during all of this.
When I finally completed some of what I had set out to do, it was time to make dinner and I had a bag of mussels in the fridge.
Then the phone rang.
My son had been away for about three weeks, apartment sitting for his friends in Massachusetts. He was on his way home, and coming down I-95. “I’ll be home around 8:00,” he said. I told him to grab something to eat.
The night before as I was loading the dishwasher, a heat-tempered bowl exploded and glass flew all over the place. It happens sometimes, a knock, a tap, on a seemingly perfect object can hit a weak spot and B O O M!
I had one of those odd forebodings after the mussel dinner. I wanted to call my son and tell him there was plenty of food remaining for him. It was 7:30, now and he was to arrive soon. Something told me NOT to call, NOT to distract him while he was driving on a highway.
And then HE called.
“I am covered in GLASS! Something hit the windshield and it exploded! get me the number for Geico.”
And so the next couple of hours resulted in calls, a flurry of number-searching, an underlying panic, fear, and what-ifs. He had eye surgery less than a year ago and he was able to see beautifully without glasses; this was one time I wished he was wearing glasses.
.
I was on the phone with Geico, he was on the phone with Geico, but the people at Geico were not in sync. I probably should have left it all to my son who had already called the police lest someone else had been hit by some UFO. (Apparently no one else reported this and he was told he should call his insurance company–but, what the heck? if you are sitting there covered in glass how can you even think? He did, he took control, and go to a rest stop, while I had highway troopers looking for him and checking that he was OK. He wasn’t answering his phone as HE was trying to talk to Geico and didn’t want to lose the call.)
.
Jennifer, from Geico, in a Macon, Georgia call center, was on the phone with me a good hour, making sure the orders had gone out for a tow truck, to the rest stop, near Exit 18 in Westport, CT. We forgot that we had extended the towing mileage on the policy. We were good to go with full towing coverage of one hundred miles.
.
Once my son was home, with a scratch down his cheek, no broken bones, the car in the driveway, a strange post shock euphoria set in. Almost like a post-partum high. It’s the body sighing and rejoicing that all is OK.
.
Then the questions: what hit the car? No one knows. It was in the right lane, no cars alongside, a truck had passed. Was there an overpass? What if whatever had hit the windshield–and later found to have damaged the hood–had hit on the driver’s side? EVERYTHING would have changed in that instant.
.
The car is now in the shop awaiting to be pulled apart and vacuumed throughout, the windshield replaced and the hood fixed. The important word is fixed. Cars can be fixed.
.
I step back with relief: my mother is still here, going on ninety-nine years and despite all I have to do for her which can be the biggest of annoyances, I am grateful. Whether I end up in a legal situation or not over medical negligence, things are better health-wise, so, I am grateful. My son, I hope, has learned that nothing should be taken for granted, not a second. And he is intact. I am grateful.
.
I was thinking that Jennifer, in Macon, likely did not vote for the same candidate I voted for in the Presidential election. What brought us together was my need and her generosity of spirit and her kindness.
.
I am grateful.
Sue, I’m so grateful for you that your son is okay. It only takes a moment for life to remind us to appreciate every single thing we have, especially our precious families. And your mom going on 99…blessings to her and to you. How much has changed since the days she lived in Florida.
Sending you hugs,
245
Life is uncertain, this makes a strong case for being grateful for the good things! And, re. papers, yes, I am one who puts off the IRS stuff. Time to put that on the list 🙂
Oh my goodness! What a story! So glad Evan is OK. Yes, cars can be repaired. People cannot be replaced, so being grateful is certainly an appropriate assertion. Hang in there. Glad health issues are better too. All is going along well here. Sending virtual hugs to you and Bob.
What a narrow escape… I still feel my heart thumping in my throat
Wow…rarely a quiet space in your life Sooz. So good that Evan was not hurt. Yes, grateful is a good description.
So glad to hear he’s ok! His guardian angel was with him!!
Glad everything is ok.
Sue, thank God everything is o.k. All’s well, that ends well. “Love you”
SUE, DOUBLE EXPLODING GLASS, MY GOODNESS. GLAD ALL ARE OKAY. I TOO AM MIRED IN PAPERWORK. GETTING REIMBURSEMENTS FROM CATASTROPHIC INSURANCE CAN BE A NINE TO FIVE JOB, I AM SPINNING MY WHEELS AS I HAVE TO CLEAR THE DINING ROOM TABLE AND THE NEXT DAY I CAN MAKE LITTLE SENSE OF THE MOUNTAINS OF PAPER I HAD WORKED ON THE DAY BEFORE.. PLUS MY EYE DECIDED TO ADD TO THE FUN BY CREATING BLACK FLOATERS AND FILAMENTS…NO TEAR OR DETACHMENT, JUST A NUISANCE, ACCORDING TO THE MD. AND SO IT GOES. I GUESS I HAVE TO GET TO GRATEFUL. IS THAT LIKE THE TRIP TO BOUNTIFUL?
I’m glad events ok. Love you
Glad Evan is ok.
Your writing always makes me think and reflect. So glad Evan is ok.
We were rearended on the the LIE, ramp Springfield Blvd exit last month. We are fine, but it has left me rattled.
We were very lucky.
Glad Evan is okay.
Sue,so grateful to read this!yes,you had a glass day.so happy your son made it home safe.I knowyou do alot.my papers Ireceived for something we donot understand are still laying Audreylol….I hope your Mother is well.you are awonderful daughter.I enjoy your writing so much GodBless you all
I am also grateful. Eventhough my beloved wife could be in better health. We support each other, because we are still in love.
Life is such an “adventure.” (((Hugs)))
It sure is Ruth, we never know when we gt up in the morning, what this day will hold!