Sunday, June 15, 2008

live. death.

Two weeks ago today my mother's life was nearly brought to a very abrupt ending. At six o'clock in the evening I received a phone call from a fellow lifeguard at the pool I work at. He said--I will never forget this phone call--"Sam, you have to listen closely to me, your mom's been in a car accident, where are you? I need your home phone number, she is being brought to the hospital in an ambulance right now, I saw it happen." I was in shock; I had no idea what to think.
I was in Chicago and the next train that I could possibly make was 8:30. My mom was hit by a car while riding her bike down Washington street. I was in Roger's park with my bicycle. And, Union station seemed far far away.

My mom survived, but what if she hadn't?
I was not prepared for her to be gone for...ever(?)

She survived. If she wouldn't have I would have been lost. Three days after the accident I finally me to actually realized what had happened. The concept that my own mother, half of me, was almost taken away from this earth couldn't sink into my apparently not so porous skin.
We are not immortal, we never will be, so make every day the best it can be. You never know when you might get hit by a car driven by an idiot who took vicoden and sleeping pills, then smoked some weed, and then decided to go for a cruise. Maybe that will happen to you tomorrow, so what are you going to do differently today?