It was Groundhog Day, and I realized my son had forgotten to take something to school. I smiled to myself thinking that any other day that week I wouldn’t have been able to make that extra school trip happen—but I had time that day. I stopped to drop it off and then headed off to work.
As I was approaching an intersection, I heard an ambulance coming from the right. I stopped to let it go by. While I waited for the ambulance to pass, I felt something hit my car from behind. I lurched forward and heard a bang—and glass shattering everywhere.
A vehicle had hit our car from behind.
We bought this car last summer after a tractor-trailer damaged our minivan while it was parked on a street downtown. It didn’t seem possible that our brand-new car would be in an accident so soon. And the vehicle that hit me was huge—more of a truck than an SUV. That truck looked mostly fine, but the damage to my vehicle was significant.
The accident happened right next to the dealership where we bought the car. I pulled it into the dealership’s lot and parked. I got out, shaking, trying to take in the damage. The other driver was apologetic and took responsibility immediately. A police officer arrived on the scene quickly, and he was supportive and thorough.
He reminded me that I was lucky to be OK—an important reminder for me to hear on a day that had gone so awry, a day when I had to call my husband and tell him that our brand-new car was badly damaged.
The salesman who sold us our car walked past us on his way into the building, waving hello to the police officer. It was such a Groundhog Day moment that it almost didn’t feel real. But, of course, it was real, and I had to have the car towed to the same body shop that we worked with less than a year ago.
“It was just your turn today,” the police officer told me—which was true, but also didn’t feel like it should be true. I felt as if I had just had my turn. I thought I was good for a while. But accidents aren’t like getting jury duty. You don’t get to appeal finding yourself in yet another difficult life situation. Sometimes it’s your turn all over again. And apparently it was mine.
We waited to get our car back for 10 weeks. Lent started and ended, and our car still hadn’t been fixed. It took time for the parts to come in and then to be installed.
The week before we got our car back, a man called from the body shop. He told me the car was almost ready for me, but because of all the digital electronic features, everything had to be recalibrated. He kept using the word “recalibrate.”
Back in December when we were preparing for 2024 to start, I used a random word generator to choose a word, and my 2024 word came up as “Recalibrate.” I thought it must mean recalibrate in the abstract sense, changing your idea of success, rethinking what it means to parent as our children grow taller and more independent, perhaps reassessing what matters in life.
And maybe it means all of that, too. After all, there’s nothing like a car accident to put life in perspective. Standing there waiting for the tow truck to arrive, I didn’t feel lucky. But, I am thankful that the police officer at the scene took the time to remind me how lucky I was.
Because I was lucky—and I am lucky. I could have been injured. I could have had my children in the car, and they could have been injured. Cars are fixable and replaceable. And everything is OK.
“In all created things discern the providence and wisdom of God, and in all things give Him thanks,” Saint Teresa of Avila said.
Gratitude certainly helps with recalibrating and putting everything in perspective.
And it’s always my turn for that.
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