All that matters

Yesterday was a rotten day. I am still sick about it. My body is tense. My memory replaying the events without a shut-off button. The seeds of anger and blame still gestating in my gut.

I had a car accident. I was driving to pick up my son from preschool, when I hit a very icy patch on our subdivision road. Split seconds later, I was skidding out of control and hit the street light with a loud CRUNCH. Freezing weather made the front end of my van into tissue paper, and the front end was crunched into tiny pieces of confetti. The van rebounded from the pole and went 360' into the roadway. Once the movement ceased, I looked to my daughter in my back seat. Her eyes were wide, but she was fine. The only thing bruised was my ego. Outside, the radiator was oozing its pink fluid. The street light was unscathed, except for green paint transfer from my van. The front end of our van, that we just got back from the repair shop a few short months ago, was destroyed.

People started to stop. Questions of concern. One lady pulled over with her own minivan filled with two children, offering her cell phone. My neighbour stopped to move the van to the side of the road, blinkers on the warn others of the treacherous path.

Desperate phone calls ensued. Call to my husband - we're fine, the van's not. Please come home. Call to my son's preschool, trying to get through to the teacher to explain why I wasn't there to pick him up. Neighbour watching my daughter so I could get a ride to pick up my son. My reality turned upside down, consumed by feelings of guilt, worry, queasiness, anger.

Once home, and stranded - calls went out to insurance, tow-trucks, car rental agency. Somewhere in between someone called the RCMP and reported my van. The officer showed up and told the tow-truck driver to redirect the tow from the autobody shop to the impound lot. The officer was confiscating my van because I failed to report the accident right away. Husband stopped at the scene on the way home to try and talk to the officer, explaining the steps I was taking...children first, out of the elements, moving the van. But to no avail.

Tears of anger and frustration streamed down my face. Another cost, another hit.

But the night was not over. My son had his preschool Christmas party in two hours. Husband took control. He made supper, packed bags, made arrangements for pick-ups, set-ups and grandparents. All the while giving me hugs and reminders, "It's only metal. No one was hurt. That's all that matters."

I sat in the aisle the church, legs folded under me, as I focused the camera on my little man's face as he said his Christmas lines. My heart was warmed by his grin that reached ear to ear, my feelings of anger replaced by his excited energy. Simple joy.

Today I will be dealing with police reports, insurance, impound fees and finances. But I know things could have been so much worse. Today I am thankful for God's protection, my family and good Samaritans. I am grateful for what matters.