Last Monday afternoon, I wrote a post entitled "Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright
." And so it is. But there was a small hiccup on Wednesday, exactly 48 hours after I published that post. Here's what happened:
As per usual, I was in a hurry to get to my cognition class. I still had to print an assignment that was due, and since my printer doesn't work, I rushed to my school to take advantage of its cheap printing prices. As I pulled in front of my building, I spontaneously decided to parallel park in front -- something I never, never do, as Guadalupe is a busy street, and I'm scared of being hit when I get out of my car. I parked there that day, though, to save time. I don't know if I've ever made a worse decision. I checked to make sure there were no oncoming cars and quickly opened my door. As I was about to get out, a guy on a bike crashed into the door. In an instant, the window shattered, the door bent back on itself, and the guy and his bike were on the ground in front of my car. Besides some minor cuts from the bits of broken glass, he was fine and so was his bike. In the end, he drove off as though nearly nothing had happened. I, on the other hand, was a wreck, and I'm guessing the damage incurred to my car will come to about $1,500.
My first thought after it happened was, "I hope this man is alright." To my eternal relief, he was. Not only was the guy barely hurt, but he rode away on his bike when it was all over. It was a miracle of miracles. I owe Him everything for that one.
My second thought came after I knew the guy was alright. He told me he was fine and signed the hospital waiver, and I held back big crocodile tears and thought about how all I wanted to do was go home and cry to my husband and hope he
didn't think I was a horrible person for not paying enough attention to people on bikes. To me, that's what husbands and wives should be for each other -- the people who love you and assure you that you are wanted, even though you do dumb things.
My third thought came as I was sitting alone after everyone had left. The firefighters, paramedics, cops, passersby -- they had all gone, and it was just me. I thought about those little chirping birds from Monday afternoon. I thought about how much worse things could've been. About how much worse they could
be. And yet, the last four days have been wonderful days, and I find myself singing, "Don't worry 'bout a thing 'cause every little thing gonna be alright . . ."
Thing I'm thankful for: insurance!