Death comes suddenly.
Death comes suddenly. In our case came aquaplaning, sliding, crashing, and the first thought. I hope you are fine. And we both were.
What we experienced then was an avalanche of good, compassionate, caring people. Four cars did immediately stop. The brave man standing on the highway beside our car helped me, “I didn’t dare look in your vehicle. I could see how shocked and relieved he was that I was clear and intact. The others secured the accident and called the police without us even noticing. Two fire trucks arrived, controlling the traffic, soon followed by the ambulance and police car. Around 20 men, all friendly, young, and considerate. They had only one concern: people’s well-being.
The young policeman, good-hearted, was happy that we were ok and that nobody else got injured. ”It will cost you a small fine. We will stay with you until the car is taken away. Don’t worry”. This somehow relaxed my system. In seconds a tent appeared for the fireman and us. “Would you like some water?”
I had this feeling of being surrounded by a cloud of kindness. Nobody was rushing; everybody was professional and focused on the most important: Human care in difficult times. When I asked to return to the “car,” — it was ok. Everything was ok. We were alive, we were safe, and the rules were secondary. People came first.
A good day? Yes. Thank you all from the depth of our adrenaline-filled little cells. We will do another round. Death comes suddenly but not yet.
Champagne for the Mind #2 — September 22, 2022 (published on Medium)