The Day I Turtled My Car

One week ago, I drove back from the clinic. 

On my way back, as I drove around a bend, a motorcyclist cut in front of me and as I slammed the brakes on my car, somehow physics caused the car to spin. 

I remember at the moment realizing I was going to get into an accident. How I braced myself for the impact. I expected to crash at the side of the road. 

I did not expect to find myself hurtling through the air, thanking God that I was fastidious about putting my seatbelt on, realizing that my car was doing a backflip. I remember seeing everything is slow motion, seeing the window shatter as the car hit the side, feeling the roof of my car crunch above my head as I ducked to avoid any shattering glass. 

Moments of horror. 

Then silence. 

Silence as I reassessed everything, realized that I was surprisingly unharmed, save some soft tissue bruising and the pounding of my heart in my ears. Realising I was hanging from the ceiling of a car that had somehow been overturned and was now on the opposite side of the road at a very sharp corner and I would possibly get hit again if I didn’t get out immediately. Somehow I managed to undo my seatbelt and drop out of my seat, somehow managed to crawl out of my car. 

It was surreal. 

I sent my silent thanks to God, who must have had other plans for me. Looking at my car, I was surprised how unhurt I was, how lucky I was that that road, which usually had heavy traffic during this very time at peak hour, was somehow unscathed by the whole episode. 

I called my dad, shocked and stunned from the impact. My dad turned up with my sister and brother in law. My best friend, whom I was enroute to meet, made her way there within minutes. The outpouring from friends, from concerned calls and well wishes was overwhelming. 

But you, it felt, observed the social niceties no more than what was needed. You showed no more concern that you would a stranger that you had heard the story from. You even said it was due to the way I drive. 

I knew then that love was dead. That the words you said were false, that life moved on. 

And I was strangely liberated in the thought, surrounded by those who loved me, who cried for me, who had held out their hands in support and held me in their embrace. I had stared death in the face and I knew that God too loved me, despite whatever imperfections and wrongs I’d done. 

Life moved on. 

And thank you all.

My car overturned!