© Danna Shirley
Unhealthy thinking . . .
After Ron
died, I chose to remain in the house that we had built together. There was no
question that I would continue working. I was numb and couldn’t make a
decision to do otherwise.
It was
fourteen miles from my front door to Central Fire Station. Part of those
fourteen miles included a stretch of sparsely inhabited two lane road that
commuters traveled, exceeding the speed limit I might add, as they tried to
make time when they were late for work in the morning or when they were anxious
to arrive home at night. As a rule, traffic was light and there were seldom any
delays until reaching my community.
On one
particular trip home from work, I was taken off guard when I noticed a school
bus stopped on the highway with four cars behind it. I had to brake quickly to
stop. We sat there for quite a while waiting for the traffic to move.
When I
looked up in my rear view mirror, I saw a big, black, pickup truck barreling
down on me. I gripped the steering wheel and waited for him to notice that the
traffic was stopped ahead of him. He didn’t notice; he was still coming
full speed!
All I
could utter was, “Oh, God, oh God, oh God,” as I stared in my rear view mirror
and braced myself for impact. It was one of those moments when you can’t watch
but you can’t look away either. I just knew I was going to die right there on
Highway 57 in south Mississippi!
When he
finally saw that traffic was at a standstill, he slammed on his brakes and
pulled off the road into the ditch. He skidded to a stop three cars in front of
me.
Soon the
bus began to move and we all pulled forward as if we hadn’t just escaped death.
I drove past his truck and looked over at him thinking, I should stop and check on him; say
something but there was
nothing to be said. He was staring out his front window and I’m sure
contemplating his own narrow escape from death.
Later
that night the event became more surreal as I relived looking in my rearview
mirror. What if I had died?
I thought of being in heaven with Ron. That would have been perfectly
acceptable to me. I was lonely and more than ready and willing to go.
Then I
thought of my loved ones that I would leave behind; my three children and my
two granddaughters at that time. I decided I did want to live. I wanted to live to see
many more grandchildren. Thank You, Lord, for saving me that day so that I
could be ‘Mimi’ to my three grandgirls . . . Mackenzie, Emma, and Isabella.
LIFE TO CONSIDER . . .
After
reading this chapter, I will reflect on the author’s thoughts as a widow and
determine to . . .
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