It was 10:30 PM, and the roads were damp. We were driving home from Ithaca, and the streets were empty for a Friday night. I was listening to music while Uri was asleep in the passenger seat. The day was simply normal and uneventful...right before another driver swerved on the road and became positioned perfectly perpendicular to our incoming car.
It's been a few days since the crash, and I have a hard time not thinking about that moment. It was a mere heartbeat's length of a second before we barreled into the driver's side of another car. Did I brake? Did I try to swerve? I have no idea. There was no response time to make that decision, even if I wanted to. Uri recalls tires screeching, but whether it was me or the other driver, I do not know. Then, the sound of metal crunching metal and the jarring feeling that comes with solid objects colliding. The air bags deployed, and smoke and chemicals filled the air. Later, we were told that the key in the ignition had been completly sheared off as the entire dashboard moved inward. After a moment of shock, we began coughing and frantically looking at each other for signs of injury, shortly confirming we were both okay. Uri shouted for help at any passing cars.
A voice was screaming from the other car. It felt like a hazy dream as I cranked the warped door open and stumbled out into a pool of glass and metal bits under the street light, car parts mingled together.
Are you okay?!
I can't get out!
Call 911!
I pulled at the other driver's mangled door (much of which had broken off and was stuck to the front of our car), but I failed to budge it. Other driver successfully crawled though the passenger side, and a tall, tattooed man in his 30s, emerged from the wreckage. Apologizing profusely and professing repeatedly that he couldn't see, he leaned against the nearest lamp post, swaying on his feet unable to firmly stand. How much was from the drugs/alcohol or from the disorientation at getting T-boned at full speed, I do not know. Later, the EMTs would tell us his pupils were the size of his eyeballs, but we had already known he was intoxicated. All of us just waited for the police to arrive, very much shaken and confused. Aside from whiplash, sore backs, and bruised legs, we were alive.
It has been challenging to move on from an accident like this. After the paramedics and police arrived on scene and cleared us to go, we managed to get a ride home close to midnight. Uri and I sat on the couch in silence, unable to say anything for a while. The next day meant Urgent Care and phone calls to the towing company, police, our insurance company, his insurance company, and all the middle men in between. An orchestra of disaster where Uri suddenly became conductor.
Since the night of the crash, I have been reminiscing on a few things.
First:
It is horribly frightening to be in an accident and for a split second not know if your partner is okay. The mortality reminder is overwhelming, and, while we both were ultimately fine, one of us could have very easily been injured or paralyzed. That moment in limbo without knowing is terrifying, and we had a major reality check that the people you love could be gone at any moment.
Second
I am also reminded that we were only 5 minutes from home. That we weren't doing a crazy adventure like bike touring or climbing mountains. We were simply driving. And, as drivers with flawless records, it was something we've done for years without any issues. But, having a perfect driving record doesn't protect you from the other guy who decides to get behind a wheel intoxicated. You could go your entire life without making any poor decisions, but you could still get seriously injured or even die because of someone else's bad judgement.
We take being alive for granted. It can truly end at any time.
Third:
After the wreck, we became swamped with responsibilities. Even though we were in a car crash, life still continued, and we needed to as well. Uri defends his PhD in less than a week, and, while he should be preparing for the hardest exam of his life, he has been spending countless hours on the phone all while trying to manage the physical, emotional, and mental stress. It didn't end there: only a few days after the crash, my own car stalled/broke down in the middle of a busy intersection, shortly before I needed to take an exam. This turned into a $1,000+ car repair bill, in addition to having Uri's car completely totaled.
On the Wednesday following the crash, we were walking to a coffee shop, and it was a sunny, warm day. Despite being one of the nicest days we've had in months, I was ruminating about the bill and the wreck while Uri was stressing about his defense presentation. After a pause, we reflected. How lucky we are to be worried about bills and exams. How thankful we are to be disappointed about trivial things like not having cars.
Five days ago, we almost died, and I wouldn't be sitting in a coffee shop right now writing this. I wouldn't be moving forward with bike plans in Europe. I wouldn't be looking forward to celebrating Uri's graduation, or moving to new places, or buying a house, or getting my own PhD. I wouldn't have any of those things.
I am grateful to have the ability to worry about things.
I am grateful to be alive.
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