Disclaimer: I cannot even completely express the overwhelming joy, relief, take-a-deep-breath feeling I’m experiencing knowing that my husband literally walked away from a could-have-been-fatal car accident…and that the couple in the truck that hit him also walked away relatively unscathed. So as you read this blog, know that I am in no way lessening the God-outcome of Friday night. And there’s no deep spiritual meaning or lesson in this blog post…this is simply a glimpse into my often peculiar thought-life. lol
So, in the whole of my life, I have had the tendency to project/assign “animate” characteristics or feelings or emotions or thoughts to inanimate objects. I have no idea what to attribute that to, except that my imagination works way overtime.
Here is a recent example of this. I recently took a 10-day trip with my dear friend Bethany Turner. On the return trip home, we flew into Denver International Airport from Cincinnati. We had landed, unboarded the plane and had made our way to baggage claim. As we were standing at the baggage claim carousel, no bags were coming from our flight yet, so we parked ourselves at the spot nearest the bag depositor conveyor belt. I noticed this one small black suitcase still left on the carousel…from a previous flight. No one had picked it up yet. As we stood there, it went round…and round…and round…and no one was claiming her. (See, I’m already doing it.)
I told Bethany that it made me feel kinda sad…this one little lone suitcase had no one to come home to. It’s obvious that all other bags from her flight had been picked up by their owners, but she was left alone. She had already been separated from her owner down in the baggage compartment of the big plane, probably cold and a bit confused…all alone amongst other bags that were most likely a tad intimidating because they were all much bigger than she was. She had probably been thrown around and man-handled by the baggage handlers who had no respect for her feelings.
I imagined her, on that round-and-round-and-round trip on the carousel, glancing at the faces of those of us standing there watching her..trying to find someone familiar. I imagined her asking, like the bunny in the children’s book of the same name from years ago, “Are you my mother?”
Before long, new bags from newer flights began to drop onto the carousel, several of them bumping into her and not giving her any consideration whatsoever. To my knowledge, she was still going round and round on that baggage carousel when we walked away with our suitcases. I hope her mommy or daddy finally came to her rescue.
So Little Blue, David’s electric-blue Ford Ranger, came into our life years ago as an amazing and most-unexpected blessing. One of our dear young adults at Rock Springs at the time WON the truck in a drawing/raffle at one of the major county events that was happening at the local fair grounds. Because this young man loved David so much and knew we were in need of another car (I believe we were only driving one car at the time), he gave the truck to David. And we were ever so grateful. And still are.
Little Blue became a part of our family and I became very familiar with that little blue truck. I could tell it was David from a mile away in town because of that unmistakable color. I loved seeing it at the church office parking lot as I would drive by. Whenever I would come home from running errands or a meeting of some sort in the early evening, I would look toward the house from the road and it brought me comfort to see Little Blue parked next to our house. Little Blue’s bed was packed full to overflowing when we moved our son CD to college in Durango his first year. David has come home to pick me up for lunch or some errand many, many times, and I would watch from our front windows or the front door for Little Blue to turn into our long driveway…my prince in his trusty steed!
Because it wasn’t very fuel efficient, we rarely took long trips in it, but we definitely have taken our share of day trips in our area…to go drive around one of the lakes or to go up into the mountains to see the wildflowers or to visit with friends or to take our dog Silas to the dog park or to run to the church campus for some reason or another. Lots and lots of little local trips through the years.
So when I drove up to the church property on Friday night, September 2, 2016, at about 6:15pm, and I saw Little Blue sitting in the ditch next to the driveway leading onto the property, and I noticed the bed of Little Blue literally accordianed and twisted and bent and beaten, my heart sank. I knew it was the end of Little Blue.
I knew that I wouldn’t be riding in that passenger seat ever again. I knew that I wouldn’t see it turning into the driveway of our property ever again. I knew that I’d never hear the familiar hum of the engine ever again. Never ever again.
And even now, a lump forms in my throat thinking about Little Blue sitting at the tow-yard, broken and beaten and bruised. All alone, nothing around him looking familiar in the slightest.
I hope he knows how much we loved him…how thankful we were for the gift of him…for all the times he took us all over the county and all the memories we made with him.
But above all else, I hope he knows what a hero he is for sacrificing part of himself in order to literally save the life of my prince. Had his cab not held together, had the seatbelt David was wearing not held, had the windows broken out…David may not be with us today. And at the least, he might not have walked away with just some soreness, a few bruises and a cut on his head.
Thank you, Little Blue. You lived a good life and we will never forget you. David’s next vehicle has some pretty big tires to fill.