One morning last week I awoke to a loud, hard knock on my front door. I did what any wife would do and kicked m husband to wake him up so he could answer the door. "If it is an axe murderer", I thought, "my children need their mother"... of course, if it was an axe murderer would he/she really knock?? ANYWAY, there was a loud knock and on the other side of the door was a loud bus driver who admitted to hitting my parked car outside of our home. Of course, she really could not deny it the bus was stuck, its lights glowing with my car's back bumper blocking its way. I almost felt sorry for her only passenger who was blissfully sleeping through this chaos. Poor guy, how would you like to wake up to this- oh wait- I did so lets just forget that dude.
The rest of the day went on as usual only I had a severely scraped bumper. I carried around guilt wishing the bus driver had not stopped but rather just continued on totaling my car. If it weren't for my alert neighbors, I thought. That dang neighborhood watch why couldn't they just sleep in one morning.
I am a good person and also one in need of a new car.
The day continued on and I found some peace. I also found a very old picture of myself and someone who was once in my life. The picture randomly fell out of a book I was packing away on a shelf. It was a great picture. I smiled at it then I tore it in tiny pieces. If I had a match I would have given it a Viking's burial. Why? No, it was not because the bus hit my car. It was because I have moved on and do not need physical reminders of what once was so long ago. I was hurt shortly after that photo was taken and after the emotional wreck cleared I was still me only a stronger and an improved me. Kinda like a new bumper... no physical evidence of the wreckage.
I went to bed that night with a filed insurance claim, a wrecked bumper, a clear conscience and a full heart. It's good to me.
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